Paint Me a Picture
by Tauna Petit-Strawn
Summary: Mistaken for someone else, Jarrod is thrown off a moving train. Upon waking, he finds himself in the care of strangers and suffering serious consequences that come from having a serious concussion. Rated T to be safe, and Genre includes drama. Written as tribute to a man I once knew who was an excellent example of coming out on top no matter what.
1. Chapter 1

**Paint Me a Picture**

**A/N There will be references to the episode "The Martyr" throughout parts of this story...but not in this chapter.**

**Chapter One**

The sound of the train's wheels did its best to lull Jarrod to sleep, as he sat, his briefcase in the seat next to him. It had been an extremely long and tiring week. The case against his client had finally come to a close in San Francisco. The man's innocence had been proven and the real culprit caught. Now all Jarrod wanted to do was get back to Stockton and back to the ranch. Back home to his mother, brothers and sister; all of whom were waiting to help him celebrate not only this current victory in court, but his birthday as well. Unfortunately, Jarrod was too wound up to relax and sleep. Soon he stood up and walked out to the platform of the train car.

Jarrod took a deep breath and let the fresh air and wind wash over him. He continued to think on his family and how he would soon be back with them. He was so engrossed in enjoying the quiet, he didn't see the giant of a stranger that came out the door until it was too late. Before he knew it, Jarrod was being thrown off the moving train.

"You idiot!" Jason Mills stepped out onto the platform just as his brother, Tyrell, threw Jarrod. Slapping him up side the head, Jason barked, "You threw the wrong man off the train!" He then grabbed his brother and hurried him back into the train, but not before warning him to keep his mouth shut about what had just happened.

Jarrod, unaware he had been wrongly targeted, hit the ground and rolled down the embankment as the train flew by. By the time he stopped tumbling, Jarrod was lying face down and unconscious.

Henry Norton and his family, who had been traveling along in their wagon, saw the struggle on the train and gasped in horror when they saw a man being thrown off the back platform. "YeeHaw!" Mr. Morton slapped his team of horses and pushed them to move faster. In the meantime, his oldest daughter Melissa pushed the horse she was riding.

"Melissa!" her mother yelled only to have her husband stop her.

"She is only going as fast as she can. Aren't we doin' the same?" Henry told his wife as he pushed his team to go even faster. He then barked for his seventeen year old son, Nathanial, who was racing alongside with the wagon; to stop hanging back and to catch up with his sister.

By the time her brother reached Jarrod, Melissa was kneeling by his side doing what she could to check for any broken bones. "Sis?" Nathanial knelt down beside Melissa. She was tearing her dress and quickly bandaging Jarrod's head. It was bleeding, though the cuts weren't deep.

"Help me turn him over, carefully." Melissa said as she began working on moving Jarrod.

"Well?" Nathaniel asked as his sister continued looking over Jarrod.

"No broken bones from what I can tell just the bleeding from cuts; however," she looked at his forehead, "probably have some bad bruising in awhile from all the bumps he got on the way down." When she heard her parents' voices and the sound of their wagon, Melissa turned her head. "He's been knocked out cold, but it doesn't seem like he's got any major injuries, Pa."

Henry Norton climbed down from the wagon while his wife lowered the tailgate of the wagon. "Well, we can't leave him out here." Mrs. Norton said, as she stepped out from behind the wagon. "Henry, why don't you and Nathaniel put the fellow into the back of the wagon. Melissa can sit with him while we continue on our journey." She might not have suggested either one, but her son had the build of an ox, like his father.

"What about Durango?" Melissa asked as she patted her horse. Not that she had to ask, the young woman pretty well knew what her mother was going to say. She did. "Tie him to the back of the wagon once your father and brother have the man laying down inside."

**0000**

"What do you mean you haven't seen him?" Nick was bellowing louder than any cow being branded. He'd just found Jarrod's briefcase and had cornered the conductor. "This is my brother's briefcase! He was on this train, and I want to know where he's at!" Something was amiss here, and Nick began to feel very anxious. "I'm sorry, sir." Paul, the conductor, was just as upset as Nick. He always prided himself in knowing who was on the train at all times. The fact that Jarrod had vanished without a trace bothered the man to no end. "I have no idea where he could be. We stopped only once and he was on the train when we started out journey again." He knew that because Jarrod had him, Paul, watch the briefcase while he got off and then took it back when he reboarded the train.

From the corner of his eye, Nick saw two men being handed over to the sheriff. He didn't know why, but he turned and took a closer look. Paul saw what Nick was looking at and said without being asked, "I and another passenger caught those two trying to throw one of the railroad men off the train, something about the man stealing their land."

Nick stiffened. While it was common knowledge that Jarrod had fought the railroad more than once, he'd also defended individuals who had association with the railroad. He excused himself and hurried over to where Fred and his deputy were taking over the prisoners.

"Hello, Nick." Fred started to smile at his friend until he saw the seriousness upon the man's face. "What's wrong?"

"Jarrod's not on the train and he was when they left their last stop." He looked up Fred's prisoners, his eyes shouting an unspoken accusation.

Not about to admit his brother had inadvertently thrown the wrong man off the train, Jason barked, "Don't look at us! We were only hired to take care of Mr. Stephens!"

While Jason's brother remained silent, Nick didn't miss the way the man shifted his weight and looked away. Was it because the man knew more than what his brother did or was it just because he, Nick, was making the man nervous.

Nick tried to find out only have Fred stop him. "If you want to question him further, Nick, you need to do it at my office." The lawman looked around at the people who had started to gather around him, his prisoners and Nick.

Nick muttered something inaudible and followed Fred and the prisoners away from the train.


	2. Chapter Two

**Paint Me a Picture**

**They never said how Jarrod back to his hotel room after being beaten in the episode "The Martyr"... so I took writer's liberty.**

**Chapter Two**

While Mr. Norton wasn't thrilled with it, the family stopped in Redwood City. Soon they were in the doctor's office waiting for the good man to come out from the back room and tell them something. When the door opened up, the elderly, white haired Doctor Morris stepped out. He looked at the anxious filled faces before him.

"_He's not one of ours; we just saw him come off the train, I mean…" Mr. Norton had rubbed his cheek and finished, "he looked like he was flying through the air. Don't know his name. My Misses, she opened up his wallet and took out some papers only to have a gust of strong wind come up and rip them right out of her hand. Who knows where all that paper is now, so we have no idea who he is." _

"How is he?" Mrs. Norton asked as she stood up.

"More importantly," Mr. Norton interjected, "who is he? Has he woken up to tell you that?" They had had to travel out of their way to get to Redwood City and Jarrod had never woke up once. That worried all the Nortons.

Dr. Morris sighed and leaned against his desk. "Your daughter here," he said as he pointed to Melissa, "was accurate in her guess. The man has no broken bones; however, this not waking up," He rubbed his forehead and said, "The man has had a mild concussion at the very least; maybe more severe." He looked at the family before him. Because Mr. Norton had mentioned they were already behind schedule, the good doctor was sure the family did not necessarily wish to continue to stay in Redwood. He was equally sure none of them would want to travel to San Francisco with the stranger if he, the doctor, wound up having to send his patient to the hospital. "You don't have to worry about the man. As you know, once you told me the situation, I sent word to a couple of friends of mine. I'm sure they'll be willing to step in and help with the man's care if needs be."

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Norton asked, the concern she felt shown in her eyes. She didn't want to feel like she and her family were deserting the man, especially if he wound up needing more help.

Dr. Morris smiled and nodded. "I'm very sure. You're husband already paid me for my services, more than I even asked of him. Why don't you and your family be on your way? The stranger will be fine here with me."

While Dr. Morris talked with the Nortons, Ester Mandrel was arguing with one of her friends as they walked down the street. "I don't see what you are so worried about, Gabby, nor do I see where it's any of your business. It's not like I'm a young school girl who doesn't know what she's doing. Besides, Dr. Morris would not have asked my brother and me to be available to help if he needed help with his new patient if he thought I shouldn't be around the man." Ester stopped talking as they reached the doctor's office. "Now, I suggest you be on your way. You know how your father gets if you're not home for lunch on time." Ester had to hide a grin as Gabby let out an exasperated "humph" and hurried off. Personally, Ester couldn't see why her friend was so bent out of shape.

Opening the door, Ester walked in and had to hurry and step out of the way as the Nortons were starting to exit the building.

"Hello, Dr. Morris." Ester shut the door behind her once the Nortons had all left. "How's your patient doing?"

Dr. Morris' shoulders sagged ever so slightly as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Well, except for not waking up yet, he seems to be holding his own." Then, looking at the clock in the waiting room, he asked, "Do you mind sitting with him while I go get something to eat? I'll eat at the café," Dr. Morris said as he pointed towards the window where the local café could be see across the street, "instead of going home."

"Sure thing," Walking briskly down the hallway, Ester headed to the back room while Dr. Morris exited his office. The young woman's brisk steps came to a screeching halt as she opened the examining room and stepped inside. She couldn't believe her eyes. Walking over to the bed where Jarrod lay, Ester gently touched the side of Jarrod's face. Her mind wandered back to a night, not that long ago when she'd been passing by the outskirts of Pinewood. She and her brother had been traveling back to their home. A stone bruise on her brother's mount had forced them to stop. While Scott tried soothing the horse's hoof, Ester had waundered off to find fresh water for her horse. They had become separated when she could not find her way back. In the course of trying to decide what to do, Ester had heard the sound of a whip. She'd hurried to hide her horse and make her way to where she could see what was going on. It was then she'd first seen this man who was now lying on the bed in Dr. Morris' office. Her mind again ran back to that night.

Ester had waited until the hooded men cut the man down and left before making her way over to wounded gentleman. She'd tended to his wounds while he told her the men had beaten him as a way to try to frighten him out of town, so he wouldn't defend his client. Due to the pain he was in, that's all that was said...except when he told her where he was staying. She'd helped him onto his horse and gotten him back into town. It was only after he was back in his bed and she had stepped outside bumping, miraculously, into her brother Scott, who was heading to the sheriff's office to enlist his aid in finding her that she realized she'd hadn't gotten the stranger's name. She would have been forward enough to go back and get it, but it was late, the man had been exhausted and her brother just wanted to get on their way...said they'd slept under the stars before. Why not do it again?

Ester smiled as she pulled a chair over and sat down, keeping her eyes on Jarrod the whole time. While she knew her mother would turn over in her grave, she picked up Jarrod's hand and held it in hers. Truth was, she'd never forgotten that night, nor had she stopped wondering who he was. "If only my brother hadn't been in such a hurry to get out of town. I might have learned your name." She chuckled as she gently laid Jarrod's hand back down. "You've got to wake up sir. How else can I finally get to know you?" She stopped talking and simply watched the slow rising and falling motion of Jarrod's chest. What else could she do? It appeared the hands of fate were at work here; all she could do was wait.


	3. Chapter 3

**Paint Me a Picture**

**Chapter Three**

Audra was doing her best to keep busy with some embroidery while her mother talked with Nick and Heath in the study. _"They don't know where he went!" Nick had bellowed after arrived home moments before. "A man just doesn't disappear off a moving train!" _Where was her oldest brother? Where was "Pappy"? The young woman was brought out of her thoughts as her mother and brothers came out of the study, still talking.

"I didn't say not to tell Gene. I said to tell him to stay at school. He has finals coming up." Nick said as he stepped inside the parlor and picked his hat back up, where he'd tossed it in a fit of frustration onto the closest chair possible when he'd first arrived home. "Wherever Jarrod is, he wouldn't want baby brother to mess up his schoolin'! I know that much." He put his hat back on while Heath grabbed his. No one argued with his statement for they knew it was true.

"Bye, mother." Heath gave Victoria a quick peck on the forehead as did Nick. Soon both brothers were out of the room and out the front door.

Audra laid her embroidery down upon her lap as her mother sat down beside her. "Jarrod's got to be all right." She said, feeling; now she could voice her fear. She had stayed quiet during her brothers' discussion, knowing full well that Nick didn't need to be worried about her state of being as well. "He's just got to."

Victoria knew how Audra felt. The young woman had been so young when her father was murdered by the railroad, and Jarrod had stepped up to bat when it came to helping raise his two youngest siblings. In fact… that's one of the reasons her children had started calling Jarrod "Pappy" in the first place. "I'm sure he will be." Victoria smiled the best she could.

**OOOO**

Ester was standing at the foot of the bed where Jarrod had her back to the bed and was talking to the doctor. "How much longer will you wait? He's been unconscious for at least eight hours. Even if she wasn't a medical expert, and had no plans to be; she knew there was just cause for worry. Before the good doctor could answer, both he and Ester both jumped when they heard mumbling coming from the bed. Ester whirled around while Doctor Morris walked swiftly alongside the bed.

Jarrod, who had opened his eyes, was aware of a pounding headache, along with aches and pains in other places on his body.

Doctor Morris smiled at his patient and chuckled. "Well, well, I see our flying acrobat has woken up. You do realize moving trains are for riding on?" The good man meant it as a joke, only his joking mood vanished the moment Jarrod opened his mouth.

Jarrod tried to talk again, to answer the doctor, but was very much unsettled when all that would come out was the same garbled sounds he'd just made. What was wrong with him? What had happened? He didn't have to wonder long as the good doctor began talking with a very serious face.

"It looks like that concussion did some damage." Dr. Morris looked from Jarrod to Ester and then back to Jarrod. After a moment, the doctor retrieved a pen and paper from a nearby desk.

"What are you doing?" Ester asked. The moment Jarrod heard her voice he took his eyes off the doctor and looked at the woman standing by the bed. His eyes widened. He knew her from somewhere. Only question was….where from?

"Obviously, his speech has been affected by this incident." Dr. Morris turned around and walked back over to the bed. "Maybe he can tell us his name and where he's from this way," he suggested as he held up the paper and ink pen.

Jarrod frowned in confusion, as he'd finally placed the woman's voice and face. This young woman had helped him in Pinewood; he remembered her now. He would never forget her face. He had told her why the Basks had beaten him. Why wouldn't she know his name? Jarrod couldn't see how she wouldn't know his name…even if they hadn't formally introduced themselves. Everybody who lived in Pinewood knew who he was. Still, he didn't fight when the doctor and the young woman helped him sit up at an angle. Soon he had the paper and pencil in hand. However, he was horrified to find himself unable to hold onto the pencil well enough to write.

"Doctor?" Ester's concern for the stranger she'd helped once before grew. This was definitely not right.

The doctor took the paper and pencil back from one very upset patient. Due to the look of frustration upon Jarrod's face, Dr. Morris looked apologetically upon both is patient and his friend, "Coordination's been affected also, but let's not worry about that right now. You, sir, need more rest anyway. I'm just glad you woke up when you did. I'd have hated to have to put you on a train to the hospital in San Francisco." He straightened up Jarrod's blanket and then asked to talk to Ester outside.

"Sure." Ester followed the doctor out oblivious to the fact that the door was not quite shut, thus enabling Jarrod to hear the entire conversation the doctor was having with Miss Mandrel.

"We have to find a place for this man to rest and recover, and I don't just mean time to learn to talk and write again. If his coordination in his hands has been affected, there's a chance he'll need canes to walk as well, to steady himself if his walking has been affected as well." The good doctor paused and sighed. "It's not like we can send for his family. The problem is I can't keep him here for anymore than a couple of days, now since he's awake. It's not like I'm set up for that kind of thing." Dr. Morris was leaning against the wall looking troubled.

Ester put her hands on her hips and asked, "And this is a problem, why? Scott and I have more than enough room for him at our place until he recovers." Like Ester, her brother had a heart of gold. She was not worried about saying the stranger could stay at their place until he could either communicate through writing or had his speech back.

Dr. Morris stepped away from the wall and walked to his desk, and then turned around. He voiced his other concern. "What if he never recovers? What if your brother and that gal of his actually get serious? You can't take lone responsibility for him. An unmarried woman…" The doctor, paused, he didn't want Ester's reputation tarnished in any way, shape or form.

The fact that he cared so much meant a lot to her. Still, Ester stood her ground. "Don't worry about me, doc. I've lived here my whole life. With the exception of a few trips to visit relatives and one night in…" she stopped for a moment as she again thought on the stranger and the night he was whipped, and then finished, "Let's just say you have no need to worry. The man is good; I can tell. If there's a problem, Scott will deal with it." She chuckled as she said the last line. Her brother had never been one to mince words, and she couldn't see him doing it now.

In the ensuing silence, Dr. Morris thought about fighting the young woman he'd seen grow up, but then thought better of it. Her brother _did _have a way of dealing with things. Ester would be fine. "I'll talk to our friend once he's had a chance to rest up some more."

Jarrod listened until the good doctor quit talking and Miss Ester had left saying she would be back with her brother the next day. With the exception of one night... a small smile spread across Jarrod's face. At least now he had his answer to why she didn't know him. _There's got to be a way for me to tell them who I am! _Jarrod closed his eyes and thought on his family. Before long, and unwillingly, he slipped back into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Paint Me a Picture Chapter Four****A/N I know Jarrod wasn't married and widowed until the third season and The Martyr was in the second season. For the sake of this story though, he's been married and widowed before the Pinewood event.****Chapter Four**

Jarrod sat on the porch of the Mandrel home. The two story home sat on five acres of farm land five miles out of Redwood. The doctor had been right; Jarrod's coordination problem did extend beyond his writing abilities. Scott and Ester stood on each side of him and helped him walk out to the porch.

While her brother had suggested a wheelchair, Ester had thrown a fit. Jarrod could still hear her words in her heated words ringing in his ears. "He can walk; it's just very unbalanced when he does! How do you expect him to get better if you stick him in one of those contraptions? We just need to help him until he gets enough balance back to use canes, and then he can throw them away when he's ready!" Seeing the wisdom of his sister's statement, Scott had relented saying he'd continue to help the man, and then get a couple of canes for their guest when he was ready.

Jarrod had smiled at her and nodded; it was the only way he knew to convey that he agreed, since his speech was still very much garbled. In fact, Jarrod might not even attempted it, but neither one of the Mandrels would hear of it. The one time Jarrod had simply gestured, Scott Mandrel had exploded. His exact words had been…"My sister and I are taking time out of our lives to help you; the least you can do is continue to attempt to talk while you're gesturing!" Duely chastised, Jarrod had grinned from ear to ear and complied with the man's wishes.

When Ester drove up in the wagon her brother owned, Jarrod's mind turned to the one sided conversation she'd had with him just that morning. "I should have asked for your name back then." She smiled sheepishly as she talked. "I had my mind on more important matters at the time. Of course your well being was at the top of the list." Ester and he had both chuckled when she joked later that if he'd wanted a personal nurse he should have hired one because that just wasn't her field. Maybe not, but he was still indebted to her and Scott for their help.

"You look might comfortable." Ester smiled at Jarrod as she climbed the stairs. "Ready to go inside?" With the air feeling so refreshing and a nice gentle breeze blowing, Ester wasn't surprised when Jarrod shook his head and mumbled words which were nowhere close to understandable. Still, she got the idea and smiled. She sat down in a chair close to his, but not too close.

Jarrod could tell she had something on her mind and made some more vocal sounds. Due to the questioning look on his face and in his eyes, Ester figured their new friend was asking who what was wrong. "You want to know what's on my mind?" She leaned back in her chair and asked.

Jarrod nodded. It was exactly what he was thinking.

For a moment Ester didn't speak. By the time she did, Ester was standing up and leaning against the front porch railing facing Jarrod. "Your family; Scott and I are wondering about your family. Are you married?" She could not remember if he'd told her that or not.

For a split second Jarrod's eyes filled with sadness, and then he pointed up towards the sky and spoke with the same garbled sounds he always used. Ester got the picture and sighed.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Do you have other family?" Ester asked gently, hoping she wasn't going to upset him by asking all the questions she had in her head.

"I have the best family a man could ask for." Jarrod thought as he nodded and answered the best he could.

Ester then folded her arms and thought for a moment. There had to be a way for her brother and her to communicate with this man and to find out who he was. Without thinking, Ester found herself humming softly. It was a habit Jarrod had already noticed she had when deep in thought. The quiet humming, and looking at Ester in her simple brown dress with white lining around the neck, had Jarrod thinking back to that night outside Pinewood.

"Hold onto me sir while I help you up on your horse." Ester had done her best to help him up without putting pressure on his wounds made by the whip the masked Basks had used. Jarrod and did as she said. He'd given her the barest of details and then, due to the pain in his back, had drifted in and out of consciousness as she sang softly. It was her soothing voice and kind words of the lyrics that help ease one very uncomfortable ride. His memories were interrupted when Ester slapped herself on the forehead.

"That night I helped you back to your hotel room." Ester turned her eyes to Jarrod once more. "You said something about defending a client. Are you an attorney?" If he said yes, the solution was simple, have the Redwood sheriff send out telegrams inquiring in different cities for missing attorneys.

Not wanting Ester to see the pain that he was sure would show in his eyes, Jarrod turned his face away from hers. Instantly, Ester was by his side and had his face turned towards hers. She didn't know what to think. He had been defending someone in Pinewood, but the deep pain in his eyes. Perhaps he had quit that line of business before this incident. Ester repeated her question as gently as she could, hoping he wouldn't get upset.

"Am I an attorney? What a question! Yes, I am a lawyer, but how can I continue practicing law? How can I argue a case when I can't even talk! For that matter, last time I checked you have to be standing up in court and I can't even do that without assistance!" Up to that moment, Jarrod had prayed like mad that his family would be able to find him. Now, with Ester's innocent enough question, he found himself wanting nothing but to stay where he was. Resigned and disparagingly, Jarrod lowered his head slightly and shook his head.

Ester sighed. She didn't know when he'd quit defending people, but if he wasn't an attorney why waste the sheriff's time? She stood up and hollered for Scott. As soon as her brother was on the porch she turned back to Jarrod while Scott walked around to the other side. "Come on." She stood up and slid her arm underneath Jarrod's while Scott did the same on the other side. "We need to get you inside; it's getting too hot out here." Jarrod wrapped his arm around the Mandrels and did his best to walk, though he wobbled and stumbled more than he walked.


	5. Chapter 5

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Five**

Jarrod again sat on the porch and read a book. He'd pointed to it earlier that morning, after Ester and her brother had insisted on him practicing walking with the two of them holding onto him. Ester had given it to him…after he'd verbally asked for it. That part had him chuckling slightly. He knew how garbled he sounded, and that no one could understand it. Still, he was grateful for the Mandrel's determination that he push himself to the limit. As he read,* Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Jarrod was extremely grateful his reading abilities had not been affected. Only when Scott rode up and dismounted was Jarrod's attention taken from the book.

"Good to see you outside, John." Scott smiled as he climbed the stairs and sat down in the spare chair on the porch.

John; Jarrod couldn't help but inwardly smile at that one. Both Mandrel's had apologized just the day before when they started calling him that, told him they had to have something to call him until he could communicate to them what his real name was. He understood completely and relayed the best he could that he did.

In spite of Scott's smile, Jarrod could tell something was bothering him. He turned the opened book upside down and laid it on the table next to him, giving his new friend a questioning look as he did his best to verbally ask him what the problem was.

Scott sighed and started talking. "Dr. Morris had a heart attack this morning and died." He wasn't surprised when Jarrod's eyes widened and a gasp could be heard through the open window. In a matter of a split second, Ester had joined her brother.

"I can't believe it. He's always been around." Ester fought the emotions that raged through her.

"Yeah, I know." Scott gave a soft chuckle as he remembered the late doctor. "From the sounds of it, people are thinking to ask his grandson Lyman to move to Redwood City and take up his practice here. The young man is a fine doctor and said, last time he was here, he wished this town was big enough for two doctors. They are having his funeral tomorrow. I think we all should go. And Oh," Scott stopped speaking for a moment and then looked at his sister. "Do you mind if we take in another boarder afterwards?" Personally, he didn't see why they didn't just turn their home into a boarding house. Goodness knows they had taken enough people in the past and, with their current friend living with them, that record didn't seem to be changing.

Ester's eyebrows turned down as she looked at "John". The man did okay with Scott and herself, along with a visitor here and there, but he seemed to grow uncomfortable after awhile. She guessed it was because he couldn't communicate with the visitors. Scott, who didn't have to be told why his sister hesitated, spoke up.

"I'm talking about young Michael Greene, and it would only be temporary."

"Michael Greene?" Ester stiffened and her eyes flew open in surprise. Michael and his family had lived in Redwood for a number of years. They were good people. Why would the young redhead need to live with them and not his family? Before she could ask the question, Scott answered it. "As you know, his father has been out of work for some time. Well, he's finally found a new job, but he has to move to take it. Michael is seventeen now and has a job here. He doesn't wish to leave and his parents aren't asking him to, if…" he paused to see if his sister caught on... She did.

"If he has a place to live…" Ester looked at Jarrod.

_"I wouldn't stop that if I could!"_ Jarrod thought as he nodded slowly. "Don't turn him away on my account." Jarrod cringed as he said the words. He really didn't know why Ester and Scott insisted he try. It's not like his speech was getting any better. It didn't matter though; Scott and Ester understood he'd just given his support. Ester turned to her brother and told him to go get the lad and bring him to their home.

"I'll go talk to him after lunch. Of course," Scott added, "he best help out with food. He acts like he could eat a horse all the time!" That got him a chuckle as he went inside. Ester went back to her work inside, while Jarrod picked up his book and went back to reading.  
**  
**0000

It was getting dark by the time Nick and Heath made camp for the night.

They'd spent countless hours and weeks either talking to the men working for the railroad or riding alongside the tracks in order to rule out the possibility that Jarrod might have fallen off the train and lay injured somewhere. "I still say those men back in the Stockton jail know something!" Nick threw a handful of wood onto the fire he'd just built and sat down near Heath. "The larger of the two men, the one the sheriff said was a bit slow; he kept fidgeting and looking away from me while I was questioning him and his brother." It had infuriated Nick to no end. If it weren't for the bars that separated him from the men in question, the dark haired rancher would probably have ripped the answers right out of the man.

"I believe you, Nick." Heath leaned back against a tree, his coffee cup in his hands. "I say we get the men who have been helping search and all of us start going to any and all towns that are close to the railroad tracks, the ones we haven't been to yet. We could each be assigned which towns to go to." He almost added 'if he's still alive', but didn't. Jarrod was alive. He could feel it; they both could. Sooner or later, they'd find him.

Nick said nothing as his mind wandered back through the years. Jarrod had always been a part of it; they had to find him, find out what happened. _"Wherever you are, Pappy, we're coming to get you."_ He threw the contents of his cup into the fire and then lay down to sleep.

0000

* w...nd_Leagues_Under_the_Sea

Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (French: Vingt mille lieues sous les mers) is a classic science fiction novel by French writer Jules Verne published in 1870. It tells the story of Captain Nemo and his submarine Nautilus as seen from the perspective of Professor Pierre Aronnax. The original edition had no illustrations; the first illustrated edition was published by Hetzel with illustrations by Alphonse de Neuville and Édouard Riou.


	6. Chapter 6

**Paint Me a Picture**

_I should have mentioned this before now. This story is written in memory of a very GOOD man, one that could have wallowed in self pity and merely existed. Instead, he was a wonderful example of success to those around him. I hope you will keep this in mind and not be disappointed in the story._

**Chapter Six**

Ester sat on the couch in the newly remodeled living room mending one of Jarrod's shirts. She was grateful for the new window that had been put in behind the couch as it gave her plenty of light to sew. Jarrod sat nearby at a desk in the far left hand corner of the room. Scott had brought the desk from Redwood's schoolhouse. The teacher said the school board was actually breaking down and buying some new ones. Scott took advantage of that fact and picked the desk up cheap.

Jarrod was doing his best to make the pencil Ester had given him a few moments before to work for him. The fact that his family must be out of their mind with worry pushed him to work on his writing ability. Only when they heard Michael enter the room did they both stop what they were doing to look at the young man. The way he was standing with his hands in his pocket, shifting his weight around a bit, and looking more nervous than a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar told both of them something was up.

"What's wrong?" Ester asked as she motioned towards a chair that sat within two feet of the couch she sat on. She saw no reason for the young man to remain standing while he talked. Making him to do that would make her feel as if she was back in a schoolhouse teaching, and she hadn't taught for over two years. She watched as Michael made his way to the couch and sat down then she asked her question again; the young man looked as if the cat had a hold of his tongue.

Michael had been living with the Mandrel's for a week now. During that time the young seventeen year old man had spent a lot of hours helping the man he only knew by John get around. Because Michael had to rely on reading Jarrod's facial expression, along with an occasional movement of the head, to understand the what the man might be thinking or saying, the young man had found himself thinking of one of the best men he'd ever met, a man of honor and integrity who he had met while visiting his grandparents in Denver the year before. Michael couldn't help but feel the same spirit around this friend of the Mandrel's, and he found an idea begin to sprout. "What if I knew a way for you to communicate with us, John? Would you be interested?" The young man made sure he kept his eyes glued on Jarrod. After all, the one thing he had learned to hate about the few visitors the Mandrel's had was that they kept insisting on asking Scott and Ester questions that should be asked to their friend, but they didn't…and he was in the same room as them!

Jarrod's eyes widened in disbelief. For a moment, he couldn't give any sort of response. He was too shocked to. _"Communicate? I can't speak and I can't write yet. Is he serious? How…"_ Jarrod's thoughts stopped midstream as he remembered his baby brother talking about meeting the sister of a class mate while working on the Berkley campus. Gene rambled on about how the woman was deaf and dumb, but how wonderful that it was that she could still communicate with her hands. Jarrod sat straight up. Michael had to be talking about the language used by the deaf…American Sign Language! Slowly, Jarrod nodded his head as he again did his best to say yes…even if it made him cringe again.

"What are you talking about, Michael?" Over the small amount of time he'd been with them, Ester had become quite protective of Jarrod and didn't want to see his hopes raised only to be dashed. Still, if the young man was serious, if there was a chance for communication; they had to take it.

"I knew a man who talked with his hands because he was deaf. I know John here isn't deaf, but his speech is downright horrible." He looked at Jarrod apologetically. "No offense intended, really." Jarrod smiled and nodded. He knew full well what the young man said was true. Michael stood up and walked to the window and turned around. His face again showed his uneasiness.

Ester looked at Jarrod. He appeared a bit perplexed, but still interested. "Please explain, Michael." Ester turned back to their new boarder.

"I'm talking about American Sign Language; it's more like Spanish. I mean, the word structure is different than English. I was thinking that while I don't know the alphabet in sign language, I do know numerous signs, not all mind you, but enough. I could teach them to our friend. At least he'd have a way to communicate with us. Of course, since he has his hearing, I see no reason for him not to simply put the signs in the English order."

Jarrod found his heart pounding. It had been three weeks since he'd been without a way to truly communicate with anyone. At first he hadn't minded; in fact, he'd preferred it that way. But now? He'd realized he'd allowed himself to wallow in self-pity, and all it was doing was shutting the world off to him. Besides, he was missing his family something fierce and feeling guilty for not admitting what his profession had been when he had the chance. "Yes, teach me." He nodded as he threw out the garbled words while his eyes did the rest of the talking.

Ester beamed from ear to ear. "While it would be nice if you knew the alphabet," she said knowing that was the only way to find out their friend's true name at the moment, shy of having someone else hand it to them or "John's" writing ability improved immensely, "it's not necessary for now. Once you have the chores done you promised Scott you'd do, you can begin teaching both of us." Her eyes were constantly looking from Michael to Jarrod the whole time she spoke.

Jarrod also smiled and nodded. It would be wonderful to be able to communicate with the Mandrels and with the young man, Michael. And so chores were done and the lessons begun.


	7. Chapter 7

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Seven**

The sun was out and the blue sky was dotted with fluffy white clouds. The breeze again made the day a pleasant one. Using a cane, Jarrod walked down a small path that led to a small creek that ran through the Mandrel's land. He had gotten to the point that on his good days he only needed to use one cane to walk…on bad ones he had to use two. Ester, Scott and their two nieces and one nephew were with him. Once they arrived at the children's favorite creek, the adults found places to sit while the children ran around and played.

When Michael began talking about his parents, it was all Jarrod could do to keep his composure. He probably wouldn't have had such a hard time, but he'd dreamt of his family the night before. One memory after another ran through his mind. Some had his siblings, some his parents, but all of them held the love and support they'd given each other. Because the memories continued parading through his mind, Jarrod didn't realize Michael was talking to him until the young man asked, "I'm sorry, John, did I say something wrong? You look upset." All eyes turned to him.

Jarrod sighed and looked around and saw a somewhat thick stick lying on the ground within his reach. Pushing his insecurities aside, he leaned over, picked up the stick and started writing. Okay, so he was using a stick and dirt; did that really matter?

Ester's eyes widened, as did Michael and Scott's, as their friend painstakingly began the struggle to write. While he was only able to gets six letters written before the struggle became too great, it was enough. All three of his friends found themselves reading out loud. _"Jarrod!"_

"So," Scott started chuckling as he slapped his hand down upon Jarrod's shoulder, "Your name is Jarrod, huh? 'bout time you gave it to us!" The man's chuckling turned into laughter as Jarrod, who knew his friend was only hard timing him, began laughing. Naturally, the laughter caught on and earned the adults more than one turned head from the children.

"Well, once you feel like you can get control of that stick or a pencil again, you'll have to tell us your last name as well!" Ester quit laughing and turned serious. She had to. Every day that went by had found her wondering about his family and what they must be going through with him missing the way he had. That concern had only grown once Michael had began teaching Jarrod sign language. With the passing days, and his increasing vocabulary, Jarrod had signed the all the information he possibly could just that morning._ Born California. Father dead, Mother alive, one sister, three brothers all alive_, along with the sign "more". His friends understood that he remembered everything, but he just didn't have the signs yet. Michael promised to continue to teach him until he had taught him all he, Michael, knew.

Jarrod didn't argue. He still had a strong desire to set the record straight on his profession and tell them his full name. As it was, if Michael knew the sign for attorney, he had not yet taught him to him. Also Jarrod knew, from the extreme struggle he'd just had simply writing his first name, he could not attempt it any more writing at the moment. The rest of the afternoon he spent listening to his friends and watching the children, the whole time thinking on his own family.

**0000**

The noise inside the Redwood church dropped more than one notch when Scott and his sister walked in with Jarrod and Michael. The ones who had not actually been out to visit the Mandrels had been left to wonder about the things they'd heard. Jarrod did his best to ignore the stares and whispers as he used both of the canes Scott had made for him to follow Ester and Michael up the aisle.

Scott walked behind him just in case Jarrod found himself in more trouble than he'd found himself that morning. Soon they were sitting in the pew the Mandrel's had often claimed before.

_Shall we gather at the River_…while Ester and Scott sang with their voices, Michael joined in with Jarrod to sign what words they knew. Jarrod had to smile at the young man; knowing he was only signing so he, Jarrod, would not feel so alone. After the meeting was over, the four of them made their way out to the churchyard where they found a small bench for Jarrod to sit down on.

Reverend Hall, a short and somewhat stocky man, walked up with nothing but a smile on his face. "Good to see you both back in church." Up to now, Scott and Ester had taken turns going to church as Jarrod had not been ready to go out in public. "And welcome to our church. It was good to see you here." The man said, still smiling and looking at Jarrod.

"It's good to be here." Jarrod answered; actually, he only signed "Good" and "here". Still, Ester was able to translate what the signs meant and what she was sure he was trying to say. She had confirmation she was correct when Jarrod smiled at her. The Mandrel's and Michael continued talking with the good Reverend, with Jarrod occasionally throwing in some short comment or answer if he could. After the reverend had left, Michael had joined his friends and Scott had joined his gal and her family, leaving Ester and Jarrod were left to themselves.

Jarrod smiled as he signed "Walk with me?" making sure his eyes held a questioning look in them. After all, he didn't want her to think he was trying to order him around.

"I'd be happy to." Ester answered as she helped him up. Scott and his gal, Maria, watched as the two walked away from the church and start on a small path that many of the residents of Redwood would use when they wanted some quiet time.

"She's taken a liking to Jarrod." The quiet spoken, blond haired Maria said. "I hope she is not setting herself up for heartache. I mean, he has a family somewhere. What happens when he has to leave; it's not like he's even hinted that he wants would like anything more than a friendship, and I see the look she has in her eyes."

Scott shrugged his shoulders. "My sister is of age and knows the dangers of letting herself get too close to someone who has no interest in anything but a friendship. Still, I guess it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on things. Would you like to go on a walk with me?" He smiled and winked at her.

Maria smiled and took a hold of Scott's arm. She knew full he was really asking if she'd like to play chaperone with him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Eight**

Jarrod leaned against the porch railing of the Mandrel home looking up at the setting sun. The reddish gold color over the mountains in the far distance made for a magnificent sight. Michael had just finished teaching Jarrod the last of the signs that he knew. Lawyer…it was one of the last few words the young man had shown him. Hanging his head slightly, Jarrod found himself fighting the demon of self-pity once again. He knew he needed to confess to Scott and Ester that he had been an attorney at the time he was thrown off the train by a complete stranger who Jarrod still thought had been hired to get rid of him. Only problem was, his feelings were once again torn in two.

Only when he heard the front door open and the swishing of a dress sweeping across the porch, did Jarrod turn his head. Ester stepped up beside him. "It's a beautiful night, quiet too." Ester said, though she continued signing. She had made it quite clear that, while Jarrod was not deaf and while he now recognized and knew all the signs Michael had taught him, she had no intention of stopping the signing she was doing. She said it was a skill that might someday come in handy and she had no intention of letting it slip away; that is, as long as she remembered to reverse the orders of the signs if she was talking to someone who was actually deaf.

"Yes." Jarrod said as he signed, doing his best not to cringe at his garbled speech.

Ester could see something else was bothering Jarrod by the way he kept moving his cane slightly and glancing away from her. Naturally, she was highly concerned and wondered what was on his mind.

Jarrod once again thought on the denial he'd made when she asked if he was a lawyer, he thought on the fact that his family who he just knew was looking for him…it was closing on six weeks since he'd woke up in the doctor's office. At that time, he'd had the strongest impression his brothers were searching for him, and that feeling was still as strong as ever, maybe stronger. After all Scott and Ester had done for him…he made his way to a chair and sat down. Only when Ester sat down on the only other chair on the porch did Jarrod attempt to answer her.

Ester's eyes widened as Jarrod took a deep breath and signed "Before I hurt; I lawyer." She was in so much shock that she didn't reprimand him for not speaking as well. She might have demanded to know why he had refused to admit it when she asked him before only she wasn't stupid; she could see many reasons for him to deny it.

Ester closed her eyes for a moment, a habit she had when she was deep in thought. All the walks and the talks…what little could be said between them, came rushing back. The one thing that kept coming back to her was his family. After opening her eyes, Ester gently chastised Jarrod, but assured him she understood where his dilemma was coming from. "It's getting late." She stood up as she smiled. "For now, it's time for all of us to get into our beds and sleep."

**0000**

It was almost ten at night, before Nick and Heath rode into Redwood City, their mother's words from their last trip to the ranch still rang in Nick's mind. Tears were fighting to come as she said; if you can find Jarrod bring him home! If not, come home yourselves! I can't take much more of this! None of us can! Neither men said a word as they left their horses at the livery stable and headed for the hotel. After all the ground that had been covered, after all the time that had been spent searching, he couldn't deny the fact of what she'd said. If they didn't find something on this trip then, perhaps, it was time to go home.

No light shone in the few homes that made up Redwood City, and there was only one light in one of the buildings. That was the hotel. Nick held the door as he and Heath walked in. Bryce Tanner, a middle aged, somewhat balding, gentleman stood at the clerk's desk. Upon seeing the strangers walk in, the man was glad he'd stayed up in order to get some extra work done. He didn't like the system his boss had of allowing guests to check themselves in after a certain time. "May I help you?" His eyes sparkled, as he smiled politely upon his guests. Despite his pickiness, Mr. Tanner was kind to all of his guests…unless they gave him justifiable reasons to be otherwise.

"We need a room for the night, one with a couple of beds." Nick took off his gloves as he spoke.

"Yes, sir." Mr. Tanner turned and pulled a key out of its slot and handed it to Nick, but not before having him sign the guest book.

Heath knew he and Nick had said they'd wait until the morning to ask questions, starting with the sheriff or the doctor, but he found himself speaking up anyway. "We're lookin' for our missin' brother; we hoped someone here in this town might have seen him."

Bryce, who was friends with Michael, had heard all about the Mandrel's houseguest. He'd also seen him at church. "We might have, depends on who your brother is, what he looks like and when he went missing." He wasn't about to hand out information to these men unless he was relatively sure he wasn't going to be sending them on a wild goose chase or that they were who they said they were. He wouldn't appreciate if somebody did that to him, and Mr. Tanner was equally sure that these guests or the Mandrels recuperating visitor would not appreciate it either.

"His name is Jarrod Barkley; he's an attorney from Stockton. He's been missing' for almost six weeks." Heath answered. Nick then spoke up and gave the man Jarrod's description. When the hotel clerk simply stood and said nothing, but looked as if he was staring off into space, Nick grew impatient.

"Well, have you seen him or not?" Nick barked and glared at the man.

Bryce stunned them both when he quietly answered, "I've seen him all right, but he won't be doin' anything law wise for a long time, if he ever does again."


	9. Chapter 9

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Nick's memories are from The Court Martial; Heath's are from Hazzard…though it is Nick that is talking to Heath.**

**Chapter Nine**

The sun had barely poked its head out of its bed, when Nick and Heath walked down the streets of Redwood City towards the livery stable. A few of the stores had their curtains opened and the owners moving around inside, but most were still closed. Nick's mind wandered to the conversation he and Heath had had in their hotel room the night before.

"_Never seen anyone who talked with their hands, heard about it, but never seen it." Nick sat in a chair that set in the right hand corner of the room while Heath was busy putting away his things. "Suppose that clerk downstairs is right? Ya think it's Jarrod those folks been takin' care of?" _

_ Heath didn't answer right away. He couldn't; his mind had turned back the pages of time. For a small moment he stood in his uncle's hotel watching a man and a woman lead a child around who had no way to communicate. Later, after the war, he'd met another family with a small daughter who could hear but, like the deaf child, could not speak… only there was a major difference, she talked with her hands. He thought on his missing brother and what Nick had just asked. Sighing, he put the last of his things away and answered, "If it's him, reckon we'll be learnin' the language."_

"If you're not careful," Heath said as he chuckled and threw Nick a lop sided grin, "you'll be the one suffering from a concussion." Nick had just missed running into the livery stable door which was wide open.

"Ha ha, very funny." Nick barked, though his mouth was turned up in a smile as he barked out the words. Soon the brothers had their horses saddled. _"If I'm right, the Mandrel's have been takin' care of your brother since he was brought into town by a family who was traveling through California. They live five miles out of town." _Mr. Tanner's statement, along with all the information he'd given them weighed heavily on the two brothers' minds, as they mounted their horses and rode out of Redwood City.

Nick tried to hide his uneasiness. It's not that he wasn't glad those who couldn't hear or the ones who couldn't talk with their voices had a way to communicate; it's just that this was Jarrod they were talking about! He _needed_ his voice, his passion for justice…even when the latter got him in trouble.

_Nick couldn't believe it. One moment "Southern Vigilantes" were getting ready to hang his former commander and, as far as he knew, he was next. The next moment the general was confessing everything. Though, the shock of hearing the confession was nothing like the shock of hearing it had all been an elaborate hoax by federal agents and his brother, his own brother, to get that confession. "….I was part of it. I'm sorry, Nick." Jarrod looked remorsefully upon Nick, but the dark head rancher was in too much shock and angry to care._

_ "You're sorry…" Nick glared at him, took a few slow steps, and swung. _

Heath didn't have to be told why his naturally loud brother was so quiet; he knew the jest of what the dark haired rancher was thinking. Besides, even if he wanted to get Nick to talk, Heath wouldn't have tried. He had his mind on the time Jarrod had gone down to Coryville to find out the truth about Gils Anders and the mess down there. Heath could see himself leaving the house and going into town. Later, Nick had showed up, interrupted his poker game. That's when he found out where Jarrod had gone.

"_...you just try me when I get back from Coryville."_

"_Coryville?"_

"_Jarrod went down there last night. He was supposed to telegraph us. We haven't heard a word. Oh, but don't let that interfere with your card game." Nick started to turn and simply said, "Gentleman."_

Heath remembered how he'd sat back down at the table, but he hadn't been able to go back to playing the game. He knew Jarrod was, most likely, in trouble and it was all because he, Jarrod, wanted the truth. Heath wondered who they'd find at the Mandrel place. He knew he had to hold onto the hope that Nick and his search for their oldest brother was almost over. "Everythin' will be fine, Nick." Heath did what he could to assure Nick there was no need for the two of them to stress. If it was Jarrod, they'd get him back home and take it from there.

"It better be." Nick growled low, not ready to lose his oldest brother.

Out of nowhere a bird flew right in front of the horses. Coco and Charger reared and almost gave Nick and Heath both flying lessons of their own. Fortunately both brothers, being the expert horsemen they were, managed to gather their rearing horses in and continue their journey towards the Mandrels.

A silence fell between the two brothers as they continued riding. Each one lost in one memory or another, all connected to Jarrod somehow. When the Mandrel home came into sight, Nick pulled on the reins in his hands and stopped Coco. Confused to his brother's actions, Heath did the same. Heath saw the intense pain that had appeared in his brother's eyes and asked, "What is it, Nick?"

When Nick didn't answer, Heath followed Nick's gaze until his eyes fell on the pond near the home the set off in the distance. Thanks to the fact that Scott and Ester's two nephews, Ray and David, had gotten a hold of Jarrod's canes and busted them playing like they were two of Robin Hood's merry men, the Mandrels were on each side of Jarrod, helping him to walk. Only when Scott and Ester helped Jarrod sit down on the bench that Scott had set underneath a tree nearby, did Nick and Heath push their horses forward, their hearts pounding faster than any train ever thought of traveling.

**0000**

Jarrod held onto his friends doing his best not to let himself get any angrier than he was. The two things that had kept him from coming completely unglued when he saw his broken canes, was the look on the boys faces when their Uncle Scott got through with them, and the thought of all the work the two boys were currently doing in the barn. The moment Scott, Ester and Jarrod heard the sound of approaching horses, the three friends looked towards the road.

Jarrod sat straight up and stared. He couldn't believe what he was seeing! Seeing their friend react, Scott hurried and asked, "Who are they? Do you know them?" He couldn't figure out why Jarrod had such a strong reaction if the man didn't.

While they weren't shocked, Scott and Ester his sister were more than a bit surprised when Jarrod, who on their picnic had finally succeeded in spelling his last name, signed, "My brothers".

_What a coincidence, and thank heavens _were the two things Scott thought as he stepped forward as Nick and Heath stopped their horses.


	10. Chapter 10

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Thanks to my beta reader pointing a few things out, I was able to get past that writer's block. If she had said nothing, who knows how long I'd have been behind that writing block.**

**Previously:** Do you know them?" He couldn't figure out why Jarrod had such a strong reaction if the man didn't.

While they weren't shocked, Scott and Ester his sister were more than a bit surprised when Jarrod signed, *****"My brothers".

"_Thank heavens."_ Scott thought as he stepped forward just as Nick and Heath stopped their horses.

**Chapter Ten**

Jarrod sat underneath the tree near the pond; Nick was on one side of him, Heath on the other. Ester sat nearby enjoying the stories Nick and Heath were telling and translating whatever comments Jarrod added.

"I did not!" Nick, who had started out a bit of a skeptic when it came to sign language, was now finding himself on the defensive as Ester told him Jarrod said that Nick had chased away their supper when they went hunting the year before by accidently setting off the snare they'd set for 'that rabbit'. "It was that mutt you decided to bring along."

"Who chased the dog?" Ester could barely contain her laughter as she translated what Jarrod had asked, while Heath on the other hand wasn't even trying to stop his. It only served to irritate Nick more and another scowl escaped his lips. Of course, that only made the laughter louder and so infectious that even Nick joined in. Nick might have suffered some more teasing by the hand of Jarrod only he was saved further embarrassment when Scott and his nephews walked up.

"We're heading into town." Scott looked at Jarrod's brothers. "Which one of you is coming with me?" They'd mentioned earlier they would need to send a telegram to their mother and sister, to tell them about finding Jarrod.

Again, the group busted up laughing when Jarrod signed, "Take Nick." That was one answer the Mandrel's did not have to translate. After all, Jarrod was pointing straight at the dark haired rancher.

"Sure," Nick said as he laughed, then stood up and dusted off his pants. "Make me tell mother the news. I think it's just payback for Modesto." Shortly before Jarrod had left for San Francisco the three brothers had been in Modesto on business, Nick and Heath looking at cattle and Jarrod talking with a potential client. Nick had gotten himself and his brothers into a bit of a mess at the saloon after all the business had been taken care of. Jarrod had sworn then he'd get back at Nick some day.

Jarrod grinned from ear to ear and moved his closed fist up and down as he did his best to say "yes". Again, no translation was needed as he was also nodding his head up and down.

"Thanks a lot." Nick pretended to growl and be mad. No one bought it though, leaving Nick nothing to do but leave and follow Scott and the children into town. Ester excused herself saying she needed to go check on her niece, promising to come back as soon as possible.

For the first time since his brothers found him, Jarrod felt extremely uncomfortable. He looked at Heath; his eyes filled with sorrow and even an apology. Those two things, sorrow and an apology, jumped out and grabbed Heath. He quickly laid his hand son his brother's shoulder. "No need to worry, Jarrod. You'll be writing more than your first name in time, and I'll learn sign language. I'm sure Nick and the others will too. Well," he paused as he knew how busy life could get, "I don't know which one of us will learn the language the best, but does it matter? In between signing and writing, we'll talk."

Jarrod gave him a slight nod and small shrug of the shoulders before turning his head away. _"What about my practice? How can I make a living?" _These and a dozen other questions plagued Jarrod. He didn't want to be useless when it came to the law. Law was his life.

Sensing his brother's struggle and seeing Jarrod's depression, through his body language, Heath did what he could to assure his oldest brother everything would be all right, and that they'd figure something out. The fact that his reassurance did indeed give Jarrod some degree of hope was something Heath would have to wait to find out, as Ester and her niece came out of the house and headed for the pond.

**0000**

"Mother!" Audra hurried into the house yelling for her mother. Silas, who had just set fresh flowers in the living room for Mrs. Barkley, turned around and smiled at the young woman.

"Mrs. Barkley is in the attic, Miss Audra." Silas offered.

"Thanks, Silas!" Audra headed up the stairs and stopped. Turning around, she looked at Silas, who had headed for the dining room. "They found Jarrod." She did her best to smile at the Barkley's long time employee. "They say he's been hurt, but they're bringing him home."

Silas frowned slightly. He didn't like it when any of the Barkleys were hurt. They were good people, good to him. No, he hated when they were in pain for any reason. "Good, he belongs here with his family." He would have asked just how Jarrod was hurt only he didn't for one main reason. If Mrs. Barkley wanted him to know before Jarrod arrived home, she would tell him. Silas turned and continued walking towards the kitchen while Audra flew up the rest of the stairs and disappeared into the attic.

Victoria, who was just closing the lid to one of the many boxes the attic held, chuckled as the door slammed behind Audra. "If you're not careful, I'll be accusing you of taking your brother's place." There was no need for her to clarify which brother; Audra already knew.

"They found him mother!" Pure joy was on the young woman's face as she waved the telegram through the air. "Nick and Heath found him!"

Victoria flew to her feet and took the telegram Audra finally stopped waving through the air and handed to her. _Found Jarrod. Hurt, but recovering. Be prepared for changes. Be home within the week. _Within the week? Be prepared for changes? Victoria wasn't sure what that meant, but it didn't matter. The only thing that did was they were bringing her son home!


	11. Chapter 11

**Paint Me a Picture **

***Please, remember that Jarrod is signing which means the sentences will not read like proper English (small words such as "the" and "and" will be omitted… True ASL is a language of its own, and I'm breaking rules as it is having Jarrod put the words in the English order. **

**Chapter Eleven**

Jarrod stood on the porch talking with Ester. His brothers were inside the house talking with Scott about buying a horse for Jarrod to ride home. After all, he had a problem walking not sitting in a saddle and he could still hold the reigns.

"Come with us; teach school." Jarrod urged her once more. Through the conversation he, the Mandrel's and his brothers had had, Jarrod had learned Stockton needed a new schoolteacher. Ester's stories about teaching school had given him the idea of suggesting that she do it again.

Ester felt the biggest struggle she'd ever had tug inside her. There was nothing she wanted more than to do as Jarrod asked. She liked him a lot, even dreamed about the day he might court her and working in Stockton might make it possible. But….Ester sighed. "But", one little word that made such a big difference. She turned up the palms of her hands and answered in resignation. "I can't right now. As you know our nephews and niece are here so much, because they lost their mother three years ago. Their father is due to get married within six months, but he's not at the altar yet." She paused as she looked towards her nephews and niece playing near the pond, and then looked at Jarrod as hope filled her eyes. "I can still write, though and you, once you're writing more, can send letters to me. Later, after my brother in law remarries, maybe I can come up for a visit. I could stay a few months."

It might not have been what Jarrod wanted to hear, yet he understood the need for the children to have a home for the time being; what with their father working long hours on his farm, the children had to have a safe and loving place. After all, they were still so young. Jarrod ran his fingers down the side of her face and smiled. Being able to write to Ester just might be the motivation he needed to really push to get his writing ability back to where it should be. "Promise?" He asked as he made the sign while giving her a warm, even somewhat flirtatious smile.

Ester smiled as her heart skipped a beat. She'd been asked more than once to make promises to people, only she seldom did. As far as she was concerned, promises were too easily broken. However, for the first time in a long time, she answered without hesitation. "I promise."

Jarrod would have kissed her immediately afterwards, but with the children nearby and the sound of Scott and his brothers inside the house, Jarrod figured he'd best not. That being the case, he sand Ester simply continued to visit until his brothers came out with Scott.

Within ten minutes horses were saddled, goodbyes were said and the three brothers headed back to Stockton, leaving Ester with her priorities set, but an aching heart.

**0000**

Jarrod stood by the study's window watching his brother's work outside. Had it been six months since he'd returned to Stockton with Nick and Heath; where had the time gone? His mind went back through time as he remembered the daily support his family had given him, even when he would have a childish fit, and all the adjustments that had been made. None of it had been easy, at times quite difficult, still they had all survived…even grown from it.

Jarrod sighed as he turned around, walked-unaided-to his desk and picked up the letter he'd received that morning; it was from Scott and Ester. The sigh turned into a smile as he thought on the Mandrels. He and Ester had been exchanging constant letters throughout the past few months. It would be good to see her and Scott again; both wrote that they were coming to Stockton for a visit.

As Jarrod read the letter once more, he couldn't help but slightly frown though. While he had thrown any resemblance of a cane away a few months ago and, through diligent work, he was writing without a problem; Jarrod still had to communicate using sign language as his speech was as garbled as ever. He had so hoped to have his speech back to normal before Ester and her brother came for a visit.

Well, at least when they arrived they would see a man working for his living, not living off others. Jarrod was doing all right. With the encouragement from his family and help from a good friend, he was back to work in the field of law. Some of his clients had been able to accept that he was still capable of giving much needed legal advice and were happy that a member of his family would translate his signing. For that matter, a few of his clients had shocked him by learning sign language so his family wouldn't have to translate. Sure, he'd lost a number of clients, but not so many as he thought he would. It helped that the judge, whose sister was deaf, knew sign language and had been able to establish the fact that the incident had not impaired Jarrod's thinking ability in the least.

Also, thanks to his strong friendships and connections at the courthouse, Jarrod was able to still file various papers for his clients. After all, everyone in the building could read which meant he just had to write down clear instructions or messages to them, if he didn't have a member of his family with him. There had been some people who had caused him some trouble, some were still trying, but overall things were going all right. When Nick opened the study door, Jarrod come out of his thoughts. "Hello, Nick." Jarrod greeted his brother with a smile as he signed. Because he didn't speak as well, he wasn't surprised when his brother reprimanded him for it.

"You promised the Mandrels and us you'd continue talkin' with your mouth as well as your hands. Don't you think you'd best do it?" Nick put his fists on his hips and started laughing as Jarrod gave him a scowl and then broke into a grin.

"If I must," Jarrod signed while he threw out the garbled sounds for the sake of his brother. "What you need?"

"I'm going into town. You said something about needing to file some papers at the courthouse, thought you could do it now." Nick answered as turned back towards the door he'd just entered.

"_We'll be coming in on the noon stage." _The last line in Ester's letter had him smiling. It would be noon by the time they got to town and got their business done. Nick, who must have been able to read his thought, or more like his smile, spoke up, "Thought we'd picked up Scott and Ester after we were through."

Jarrod put Ester's letter away and followed Nick out of the study and out the front door. _Yes, it would be good to see the Mandrels again._


	12. Chapter 12

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Twelve**

From where Nick and Jarrod stood waiting for the stagecoach, they could see Phil Archer talking to the judge on the steps of the courthouse. Both Barkley brothers had to grin as, even though they couldn't see the Mr. Archer's exact expression, they knew by the way the man whirled around and stormed off that he was not happy. "Judge probably told him to stay out of your business." Nick grinned as he thought how Phil, who had vehemently opposed Jarrod retaining his license to practice Law and working in any part of the law, was failing to keep Jarrod out of the courthouse.

"Maybe," Jarrod answered just as the stagecoach came into view. It was a sight that Jarrod more than welcomed, especially after seeing Mr. Archer and the way he had stormed off; the man was still in the wrong and playing the part of someone with their lights turned off. No; Jarrod was sure that Phil Archer would remain a thorn in his side.

Jarrod pushed those thoughts aside as the stagecoach stopped and the door opened. Two other passengers climbed out before Scott and his sister emerged. It didn't take long for Nick and Jarrod to load Scott and Ester's things into the back of their wagon.

"Well, I don't know about you three, but I'm famished." Nick said as he put the last of the luggage into the back of the wagon. When he turned around thinking to climb up in the driver's seat, he found Jarrod already behind the reins with Ester sitting next to him.

"I think we just got assigned to the luggage car." Scott laughed as he saw the look that had come upon Nick's face, one that said 'you would do that dear brother'. "Come on, let's get inside and get back to your ranch and all that good cookin' you were talking about when you were at our place." Scott laughed again as he climbed into the back.

"I knew there was a reason I seldom come to town without my horse." Nick grumbled as he too climbed up. That only earned him more laughter, only this time it was from the Mandrell's and Jarrod. Nick didn't let it bother him though. Truth was…he was only partially annoyed. After all, his sitting in the back for now just might help Jarrod and Ester get together on a permanent basis. That was one idea Nick figured he would have no problem living with.

Standing inside the bank, Phil Archer watched as Jarrod drove the wagon past the building and out of town. A part of him was still boiling over the judge's words. _"I don't want to hear another word out of you, Phil! The man didn't lose any of his knowledge in that unfortunate incident, nor was his intellect and thinking impaired in anyway. No, Jarrod Barkley is still very capable of handling his clients' requests outside the courtroom. For that matter, I'd love to see him find a way to be arguing a case in court again, not just sitting at the defense table with his new partner and the accused party! Unfortunately, I don't think that part will happen unless he gets his voice back." _

Phil placed his hands upon the window sill and watched the wagon disappear, promising up and down to keep an eye on "that man".

_**0000**_

By the time Jarrod and the others got home, the wind was starting to blow; it held the tiniest nip to it, a sure sign that autumn had arrived. Jarrod climbed down and then helped Ester down, while Scott and Nick jumped out of the back. "I can help get these things out of the wagon and put up." Scott said as Nick began unloading the wagon.

Both Nick and Jarrod's eyes flew open in shock. "You're our guest!" Nick exploded while Jarrod signed his objection…his throat was a bit sore and needed a rest.

"Yes, and this guest is helping." Scott smiled as he threw a box up on this shoulder and asked with feigned innocence, "Where do you want it?"

Jarrod grinned as Nick let out a "Harumph", grabbed a box and barked for Scott to follow him. Jarrod then made a motion toward the house and led Ester inside, the whole time she was doing her best not to stare at the mansion before her. Jarrod had said it was huge, but she hadn't thought he meant enormous!

"Welcome!" Victoria was all smiles as she saw the young woman she'd only heard about walk in the front door with her oldest son. "It's nice to finally get a chance to meet you." She gave Ester a heartfelt handshake, one that was returned with just as much sincerity. "I've heard so much about you."

The fact that Ester was embarrassed by the statement could be seen in the way she blushed and looked as if she was unsure what to say. "Why don't you get our guest something to drink, Jarrod?" Victoria looked at her son only to have Ester quickly, but politely, decline the offer.

"I'd rather just lie down and rest if I could, ma'am." As Ester had slept very little since leaving Redwood City, she was extremely tired.

"The name is Victoria, or at least Mrs. Barkley, not ma'am." Victoria smiled as she corrected Ester. "And of course, you may lie down." Then, without thinking, she added, "Jarrod can show you the way." That got one slightly raised eyebrow from her son and the young woman blushing again.

Victoria saw the humor and chuckled. "Get yourself a drink, Jarrod. I'll show her to her room."

Jarrod headed for the sherry, but not before watching Ester until she was out of sight. _"We were going to visit and then go back to Redwood City in three weeks, but I had a chance to take a temporary job here in Stockton."_ Scott's voice rang in Jarrod's ears. _"Accepting that offer means my sister and I will be in Stockton for three months. I've been given accommodation in Stockton close to the bank. We can move in Monday."_

Jarrod would have preferred they stay at the ranch, but neither Scott nor Ester would hear of it. They'd merely laughed when Jarrod had signed that he and his family would like to pay back their kind deed and told him there was no debt to pay back. "_Three months…" _sighed Jarrod. He then picked up the bottle of sherry and poured himself a drink. A smile came to his lips once the warm liquid had coated his throat. "_A lot could happen in three months."_


	13. Chapter 13

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Thirteen**

Jarrod stood next to the window of the office he now shared with Brigham Taylor, a longtime friend and fellow attorney doing his best to keep his mind on his work. That wasn't easy as the memory of eating lunch with Ester Mandrel just an hour ago was still on his mind. Forcing his mind off the luncheon, Jarrod thought on his law partner. Like Jarrod, Brigham had a passion for justice and truth. Brigham had, along with Jarrod's family, been the major force behind getting the judge to see that Jarrod had lost none of his capabilities when it came to the law. That is, once Jarrod's writing was back to normal and he had better control of his motor skills. And, even though Phil was unaware of it, Brigham had been the one to tell Nick and Heath where to go, and what to do, behind the scenes…in order to block Phil's attempts to ruin Jarrod's law career.

From where he stood, Jarrod could see Phil talking to Fred. He might not have continued standing by the window, but he happened to notice Phi's no good second cousin, Sean, was standing near an alley near the not so likable prosecuting attorney. The man kept looking down the alley way and then back towards Phil. Jarrod instincts told him something was up, something no good, he presumed.

Unfortunately Jarrod's silent review of the scene taking place was interrupted. His attention was drawn away from the scene outside the window when his partner walked into the room.

"Sorry, I took so long, Jarrod." Brigham tossed the file he had in his hands down upon the desk. "You did it." He grinned at Jarrod. "All that information you were able to get did it; the judge has agreed to give Mr. Lyman the injunction he was seeking." Mr. Lyman was a farmer who had come to them for help over a legal matter. "My Missus is coming into town later. How about getting yourself some company and joining us for dinner over at the restaurant." Brigham, smiled sneakily. Bingham and his wife and met the Mandrels just before they moved into a small home just outside Stockton. They had seen the way Jarrod looked at Ester. Being the hopeless romantics they were, Brigham and his wife had decided to help the relationship along…if they could.

Nodding, Jarrod signed that he would talk to Ester. He would have tried to answer him vocally also, only he had turned his head slightly and caught sight of Sean Archer hurrying down the alley the moment Phil walked away. "I go now. See you later." Jarrod hurried and excused himself.

While Brigham could tell something wasn't quite right, he had no choice but to let Jarrod go without question because he had to leave himself. He needed to get a few other things done before dinner, especially if his wife's matchmaking plans were to come to fruition.

Jarrod had exited the law office and hurried towards the alley he'd seen Sean disappear into. By the time he reached it, the place held no occupants. Still, he walked down the alley looking for who knows what. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Where had Sean gone?

Jarrod then stopped dead in his tracks when he realized he was in an alley that had no way out of it, but the way he'd just come. He whirled around…still nothing. Which building had Sean disappeared into? The Hardware store or Jepson's Mercantile? More importantly, how? Both business had closed off their side entrances'; well, up to now, Jarrod had thought they had. As much as he would like to have been able to go straight to Phil and talk to him about his cousin's suspicious behavior and strange disappearance, he couldn't. While Phil greatly disliked Sean, the man still barely tolerated Jarrod's presence in the courthouse, and only when he had to. There was no way the man would consent to sit down with Jarrod and accept Jarrod's written word in order to communicate.

Jarrod decided there was nothing he could do, but file this incident in the back of his mind for now, and then go see if Ester would be willing to go to the dinner with the Brigham's. Later, he'd tell Nick, Heath and Brigham about this incident this afternoon, and ask them to keep their ears and eyes open; wide opened. He's also like them to find out which building had their side entrance in use again. He would have checked himself, but he had a school teacher to go see. He straightened up his jacket and walked out of the alley.

Sean Archer had actually slipped into Anderson's Hardware Store and had gone up to the attic of the building. He watched Jarrod walk away from the small window high above. If Sean had known why Jarrod had been in the alley in the first place he would have gone after Jarrod in a heartbeat. As it was, he figured he had gotten into the Hardware store just in time. He was sure no one had seen him enter the alley. With that being the case, he was just as equally sure no one had any reason to be looking around the side doors either. Feeling as safe as a bug in a rug, Sean turned slowly away from window and slithered away.

Meanwhile, Jarrod had headed towards the schoolhouse where Ester, who had been hired to cover for the regular teacher while she was out of town visiting relatives, was just finishing up her day. She smiled the moment Jarrod opened the door and walked in.

"Jarrod! How good to see you. I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow." She exclaimed, trying to suppress the flutter he body caused at the sight of Jarrod; so handsome and smiling. She and her brother had been invited to dine at the Barkleys the following evening. Ester figured she'd just have to wait until then to see the man who was fast wrapping her around his little finger. "I was just cleaning up." She picked up yet another text book as she spoke. Jarrod began helping gathering up the rest of the books. "Thanks." She smiled again as they cleaned up the class room together.

"You're welcome. Have supper with me, Brigham's home, tonight." Jarrod honestly tried to say the words as he signed, even the ones there were no signs for, but all he really felt like doing anymore was keeping his mouth shut. After all, he had come to terms with the loss of his voice; he just couldn't get himself to hurt those he cared about, ones he knew were depending on him regaining his voice.

As excited as Ester was to receive the dinner invitation, she was hit hard by the way Jarrod's eyes flinched and the way he stiffened ever so slightly as he tried to speak. It hit her like a tons of bricks that he would prefer simply to sign, and that he was indeed only attempting to speak for those he cared for, because they wanted it. If she was to seriously look at Jarrod as a prospective husband, Ester knew she needed to be able to accept him as he was, because the more time went on, the less chance there was that he'd ever get his speech back. Knowing she'd be inviting the wrath of at least a couple of his family members, Ester smiled and answered. "I'd love to, but only if you start communicating the way you want to, not the way everyone has been pushing you too."

Jarrod's eyes widened in amazement as he could see the sincerity of her words in her eyes and could hear it in her voice. Slowly he signed, without moving his mouth, as his eyes filled with a questioning look, "You serious?"

"Very serious," She smiled as he started beaming.

Jarrod's questioning looked turned to one of heartfelt gratitude as he signed "Thank you". He then lifted her chin upwards and moved his face forward, giving her a gentle kiss. Supper never seemed so far away.


	14. Chapter 14

**Paint Me a Picture **

***The reference to Phil Archer behavior after Libby died is, of course, in direct reference to the episode "Into the Widow's Web". ******

**Chapter Fourteen****  
**  
Jarrod, who had received word that the Taylors had had to move the dinner back a couple of nights due to unforseen business and would be holding it at their home instead, stood in his room finishing getting ready for his dinner date. He'd promised to pick Ester up by five thirty and he meant to be on time. When he opened his bedroom door, he heard Audra talking to Heath discussing him. Jarrod quickly made sure the door was opened just enough as to allow the conversation to be heard.

"It's not right! How is he going to learn to talk properly again if he stops trying? We've got to make him see reason!" Audra desperately wanted to hear the sound of her oldest brother talking once more. It just didn't seem right for her brother to stop working on it.

Heath couldn't blame Audra for being upset, but he could also see Jarrod's point of view. It had been six and half months since he'd been home, eight since he was thrown off that blasted train, and he was simply tired of trying to get something to come back that was apparently not going to. Besides, Jarrod was right about something else. It was time to accept things as they were and move on. "Audra, it's not what he wants. We need to accept that and support him." Heath laid his hand upon his sister's shoulder and asked, "Shouldn't we just be happy we found him? That he has a way to communicate with us besides writin'? That, maybe, he's found someone to share his life with in spite of this, and that he's still workin' in spite of Phil Archer's extreme efforts to get his license taken away from him?" That last part still burned Heath. After swallowing his pride and admitting what he had after Libby had died how Phil Archer could turn around and do something like that was beyond Heath's understanding.

Audra wanted to argue with Heath only she couldn't; deep down in her heart she knew that Heath was right. Jarrod deserved the family's continued support. Still, she found herself holding onto the brother who felt, at times, more like her twin brother than a half-brother and crying. Heath said nothing as he knew how she felt; he'd shed his own tears in the privacy of his room the night before. "It will be fine, Audra, it's just somethin' that life's handed to Jarrod, to all of us."

For a brief moment Jarrod considered going back to trying to speak once more, but it was only for a moment. While his heart ached for his sister and for every member of his family, Jarrod knew it was he was doing the right thing. Jarrod waited until Audra had pulled away from Heath and wiped her eyes before he opened his door. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass his little sister.

Having accepted what Heath said was true, Audra wasted no time in having a bit of fun with Jarrod when he came out of his room. Putting a smile on her face, Audra teased Jarrod, "Looks like he's ready for a good time." The fact that he was going to see Ester Mandrel yet again had been the topic of more than one conversation that day.

Heath only chuckled as Jarrod grinned and signed "Be home later', and then walked down the hallway. He might never hear Jarrod's voice again, but at least the man wasn't sitting in a corner feeling sorry for himself. Heath then excused himself from Audra and headed downstairs himself. He had a bit of work to do before he ate supper himself.

0000

"I'm serious." Brigham sat in his spacious living room with his wife talking with Jarrod and Ester, who sat on the couch opposite them. They had finished eating supper and were now sitting around visiting, with Brigham translating what Jarrod said…as Candace did not know sign language. "The museum will be opening in a couple of days and these pictures," he pointed to the ones he and his wife had hanging above the fireplace mantel and the one hanging above the entrance way to the living room, "cost nothing compared to the ones that will hang in that place. Personally, I think they're crazy. It's inviting trouble; they should have just left them in San Francisco. Besides our local and American artist's are just as worthy of praise."

Jarrod knew the paintings his friend talked about; he'd seen them, and he agreed. "Why move pictures?" Jarrod asked.

Brigham shrugged his shoulders and answered, "I don't really know, been too busy to get that nosey."

Ester, who had been quiet most of the evening, spoke up, "I had heard Tom Anderson's fiancée pushed for it, said the museum wanted to attract more visitors. Maybe, they see this as a way to do it. They are famous European works, we were lucky to get the acquisitions." Somehow, neither the Taylors nor Jarrod were surprised to hear that. While Tom himself, for the most part, had his feet planted squarely in reality, Hester Miller did not. She insisted on trying to live a champagne life style while living on a beer budget. What Tom saw in her, no one would ever know.

"Maybe," Jarrod signed as he stood up, having finally noticed it was past time to leave, "Time get you home. Time I go home." Jarrod admitting that has he'd had the most enjoyable evening he'd had in a long time, especially since he didn't have to listen to a bunch of noise coming out of his mouth.

Ester and the Taylors stood up. Once Jarrod had helped Ester with her coat, he put his own on. "Thanks, supper good. Next time, my home." He smiled at his friends.

"I'll hold you to that." Candace smiled after her husband told her of Jarrod's invitation. She did not like cooking. It didn't matter if she was a great cook or not, which she was, Candace. H. Taylor only put up with the kitchen, because she and her husband needed to eat and, at the moment, their cook was on vacation.

Once outside, Jarrod helped Ester up into the buggy and then climbed in afterwards. They hadn't gone a block when, out of the corner of his eye, Jarrod saw Sean Archer coming out of a local business talking to Chris Hall, a heavier set, balding man who stood five feet seven inches. It might not have caught his attention, but Mr. Hall was under suspicion by the law. They thought the man might be involved in the buying and trading of stolen items. Jarrod knew that because Fred had told him. As Stockton's Sherriff, Fred had been asked to keep an eye on the man's activities by a Federal Marshall who had come to town the week before. "What is it, Jarrod?" Ester didn't like the way Jarrod had tensed up or the concentration that had come upon his face; it made her nervous.

"Don't know." Jarrod signed as the buggy continued down the road towards the small home Ester and her brother were sharing. He then changed subject to lighten the mood. However, his private thoughts put the information in the back of his mind.


	15. Chapter 15

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Fifteen**

Due to the fact that both the Mandrels had expressed a love of art, Jarrod had invited both to go to the museum opening and see the new paintings. Scott had to decline due to work obligations, but Ester was more than eager to go see the newest additions to the museum's collection. Saturday morning found Jarrod picking her up at noon, along with Nick and his steady girlfriend, Ella.

"I hope you don't mind if Ella and I tag along." Nick smiled at Ester while his eyes danced; he was looking from Jarrod to Ester, loving the fact that someone had finally caught his brother's attention. Beth had been gone long enough, and Jarrod needed someone. At least, Nick thought he did. He wasn't really worried that Ester would have a problem with it. He was only teasing.

"I don't mind at all." Ester answered as Jarrod helped her put on her shawl. Soon the two couples were walking down the street towards the museum. Ester didn't argue as Jarrod took her hand in his; it felt right and natural. Had she taken the time, Ester might have chuckled of the dirty looks some of the local women gave her. That is, the ones who had secretly hoped to catch the blue eyed baritone lawyer's attention. Some of them had even tried after he'd thrown away his canes. Only she didn't. Ester was too busy visiting Jarrod, his brother and Ella.

Jarrod too missed the looks, as he was too busy doing two things; one, being totally enthralled with the young woman next to him and two, chuckling inside him when it came to the way Ella had tricked Nick into being a part of this trip. He was sure if Nick had caught on sooner than he did, the dark haired rancher would have hightailed it out to the north pasture with Heath instead.

On the other hand Nick and Ella noticed the reactions and grinned wider. They could care less that the women shooting the dirty looks towards Ester had never got to first base with Jarrod. True, some of them had shown they felt bad for him, but they'd never really made an honest effort to be around while he was recovering. They obviously did not care enough.

Nick looked from the woman on his arm to Jarrod and Ester, and then back to Ella. His eyes sent his gal a message that said, 'Let's make sure these two don't get separated at the museum for any reason'. It was a message he knew Ella got, when she quickly looked at Nick's brother, Ester and back to Nick…smiling wide afterwards.

"What you plan?" Jarrod caught Nick off guard when he signed the question. Leave it to Jarrod, miss the looks the women around him were sending their way, but notice the unspoken conversation he and Ella were having. Good thing they were right next to the museum by the time Jarrod asked the question; it gave Nick a way out of really answering his brother.

"Last time I checked," Nick answered as he pointed towards the tall, brown adobe building, "Looking at pictures when I should be getting work on the ranch done." He growled in an effort to cover up the fact he was actually somewhat eager to see the paintings everyone was raising such a fuss over.

Jarrod wasn't totally convinced Nick was being straight with him; still, he knew it was the straightest answer and the most polite one he'd be getting with the women present. He turned and led Ester up the stairs and then held the door open while she and Ella entered. For a split second he thought teasing Nick, by shutting the door on him, only he didn't.

Nick couldn't believe how many people had come out for the exhibit. It seemed to him there were people lined up from side to side and top to bottom. "Look at these pictures! They're gorgeous!" Ester exclaimed as she pointed to a figurative landscape by *****Alphonse Louis Poitevin; a beautiful oil painting.

Jarrod smiled wide at her enthusiasm for the work as he'd always appreciated fine art himself. "I agree." He signed.

Nick went to say something, but instead an angry look came upon his face as he saw Phil Archer walking towards them. Ella, Jarrod and Ester hurried and turned their attention to what Nick was looking at. They too stiffened and waited for what they thought was going to be another personal assault, of some form, to be made at Jarrod. They were shocked when he stopped short of them and addressed the museum curator instead. Because the two men weren't that far away, Jarrod, those with him and others nearby could easily hear the conversation between the two men.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Archer. It's like I told you before, the painting you inquired about yesterday was not for sale. Though, I must say, I admire your taste when it comes to paintings that deal with landscapes." Mr. Peterson stood as straight as any soldier in the military could, probably straighter.

"I don't believe that!" Phil, who seemed to think everyone, should bow to his wishes, shot back. "I offered to pay you twice the amount that it's worth! Only a fool would turn such an offer down!"

Jarrod wished he had his voice so he could tear into the prosecuting attorney. Though, his smile spread wide when Nick stepped forward and took over that "job".

"The only fool here is you, Phil! You know full well the museum was bequeathed the paintings on the condition they would not be sold. " Nick put the back of his hands on his hips and glared at Mr. Archer; the glare was strong enough to knock some sense into most people…unfortunately, Phil was not most people.

"What about that picture that brother of yours hung in that room he dares still calls an office? He bought it here, or are you going to tell me he's trying to take up painting now? Then again, the way he throws his hands around all the time he just might have some luck!" Phil had a smug look on his face as he spoke, not caring about the hurtful words he'd just thrown out concerning Jarrod and sign language.

"First off, stop insultin' my brother! There's nothin' wrong with the way he talks! Second, if you'd ever stop to get your facts straight, Mr. Archer, you'd know that picture was not a part of this collection! It was bought and paid for months ago; it just hadn't arrived yet! If you want a paintin' so bad, paint one yourself!" Nick threw the words at Phil like daggers. They did their job as Phil Archer looked as if someone had taken pins and thrust them into every inch of him.

Embarrassed, and infuriated at being put in his place in public, Phil turned around and left muttering under his breath. "Thank you." Mr. Peterson smiled and held out his hand. "I swear, he's becoming obsessed with the painting he just asked about."

"He's just jealous because Jarrod has better paintings in his office. Isn't that right Jarrod?" Nick turned around, shocked to find only Ella standing behind him. Jarrod and Ester were walking out the door. He shook his head. "Where are they going?"

Ella, who looked rather upset herself, answered, "They said they didn't care to be in the museum at the moment."

"In other words, Phil's upset dear brother." Nick growled saying if he'd known Phil was going to be there he'd have pushed to go somewhere else.

"Doesn't matter, now," Sighed Ella, taking a hold of Nick's hand, "Now since Phil's gone, I think we can get them to come back in." She hoped they would anyway.

It took a few minutes, but soon Nick and his date found Jarrod and Ester. Soon the two couples were back inside and enjoying their time in the museum.

***** masters/p/poitevin-alphonse_


	16. Chapter 16

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Sixteen**

Jarrod and Ester sat on her front porch talking about the scene in the museum and the embarrassing way Phil Archer had acted, along with the things he had said. Ester was doing her best to reassure Jarrod that she'd never tired of being around him. "You're signing is just as eloquent as the spoken word and shows a much clearer picture that many words do. Someday, that blasted district attorney is going to see just how valuable a member of society you really are. When that day comes, I'll be first in line to feed him his plate of crow."

Jarrod smiled and chuckled, though his eyes betrayed how he truly felt; there was no way Phil would eat crow anytime soon.

"Seriously, Jarrod," Ester said leaning into him and whispering, "Phil Archer will never be in the same class as you. If he ever created a picture; ever painted anything, it would be clear as mud. You, on the other hand, can paint me a picture anytime."

Jarrod's heart pound as he found the space between their faces closing its gap. Even knowing Scott was inside the house, Jarrod found himself pulling Ester to him and lowering his head. The simple kiss quickly turned deep and passionate; Jarrod swore right then and there to seriously court the young woman who had quickly grown to mean so much to him. Only when they heard the door open, did Ester and he quickly separate.

Scott, who had indeed been watching what was going on from inside, hid his smile. He had secretly hoped something like this would happen, but he wasn't about to admit it. As it was, he got somewhat of a sour look upon his face as he looked at Jarrod. "Unless you intend to marry my sister tonight, I suggest she come inside and you go home. Do you realize what time it's getting to be?" He had to hide a laugh at the look of horror that came on Jarrod's face as he looked up at the sky. It was downright comical!

"Sorry. I go now. See you tomorrow?" Jarrod stood up and looked at Ester. He'd invited her out to the ranch for dinner tomorrow night, and told her that Scott should come too. That is, if he wanted to.

"We'll be there." Ester promised as she watched Jarrod hurry down the steps. After he'd left, Ester went inside and had it out with her brother.

**0000**

Fiery, stubborn and used to getting her way, Hester Miller stood in the back of the Hardware store and almost spat at Sean and Chris as she hissed. "Don't stand there and tell me none of you use the old side door during the day! If you don't, how come I overheard Tom and that blonde haired Heath Barkley talking, how come Barkley asked about it? I talked Tom out of coming back and checking himself, told him I'd make sure it was secured." The five foot four, red headed woman slammed her fist down upon the table, "Do you know what happens if someone finds out how to open that door and comes inside? Look at all these stolen items my boss and I have been good enough to hide for the two of you!"

Sean Archer and Chris were tired of hearing about 'the boss', since they'd never met him. They were also tiring of having to put up with this money hungry woman before them. They would have done something about it, but whoever her boss was had paid plenty for the items and had given them down payments on one more jobs he had for them. "So, we move the items after we do the museum job you talked about."

"Where to? Where in the name of Stockton are you going to move all these items without risking someone finding them and sending us to prison? Just stop using that door in the light of day!" Hester Miller had no intention of spending any time in any jail or prison.

Silence fell between them as the men thought. They, like Hester, had no desire to be put behind bars. Slowly, they began tossing out one idea after another only to find Hester stopping them at every turn…using legitimate points each and every time. Her reasons being justified were more than annoying to them. Finally Sean had a smile spread across his face that could have stretched from California to Florida.

"Get that clown like grin off your face!" Hester snapped. She hated that grin; it got on her nerves each and every time the man used it. "What is it? And make it quick! I need to get going."

"Don't worry," Sean snapped, too tired to put up with the temperamental woman's bossiness at the moment, "I have the perfect place for this and the paintings we'll be getting. We don't have to keep tall these items here! Now get out of our hair!"

She might have argued, but she had better things to do than to stand in this place and quarrel with Sean Archer. "Make sure you're not caught. The boss won't like if you are!" She hurried out of the room leaving Sean and Chris to start loading the wagon Sean had parked in the alley. They were surprised when Ester came back.

"Here! I just bumped into the boss. He said to give you this." She handed them what turned out to be instructions on where to take the items.

Sean read it and stared, and then handed the paper to Chris. "Come on, let's get this stuff moved!"

Sean and Chris weren't the only ones taking advantage of the dark. If anyone had standing around Phil Archer's office they'd have seen a shadow of someone slip into the prosecuting attorney's law building and into the back office. Smoothly and silently, the lone figured unlocked the filing cabinet, pulled it out and began to go through various folders. Finally, finding the one they'd been looked for, the unseen resident of Stockton opened it up and slipped other papers into the file and then shut the filing cabinet. The lone intruder then left the same way they'd come.


	17. Chapter 17

Paint Me a Picture

Chapter Seventeen

While it had rained the night before, the sun had warmed up the day and by noon it was actually pleasant enough for a picnic, which is exactly what Jarrod and Ester were having. Ester sat against a tree eating a piece of chicken as a cool breeze blew through the air. She knew it wouldn't be long until the breeze would be too cold. After all, it was the first week of November; winter really wasn't that far away.

"What you think?" Jarrod asked as he chewed on an apple. He grinned when Ester shot him a slightly annoyed look. He was sure it was because he was talking while he was eating. Was it his fault he could sign and eat at the same time?

"I think time is passing too fast." Ester answered, as she looked up at the fluffy white clouds dotting the otherwise bright blue sky. She hadn't thought about it until that morning; her brother's job would be ending in a mere week. They were, as he'd said just that morning "almost ready to start heading home". During that time Jarrod had taken her to dinner, taken her to dances and picnics like this. They'd had one discussion after another and shared more than one laugh over a good story or joke, especially the ones played on his siblings. She hated to see it all end.

Jarrod stopped eating. Except for the two times he'd kissed her, he had not made a move on her or pushed her in anyway. He'd been afraid he'd frighten her off if he moved too fast. Only now, he realized if he didn't do something, she'd go back to Redwood City. He thought on the purchase he'd gathered the courage to make from the jewelry store the week before, the purchase that was still in his pocket because he'd balked afterwards. "Stay." He signed as moved just a bit closer to her.

Ester's eyes widened as her heart skipped a beat. He wanted her to stay in Stockton? She stood up and walked over to the pond, fighting to remain outwardly calm. It didn't take Jarrod long to be by her side and turning her to face him. After Beth had died, Jarrod had sworn he'd never get that close to anyone again. Now he kept his eyes on Ester's face as his hands signed in earnestness and his eyes shone with anticipation. "Don't go. Stay here."

Jarrod reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box that had been weighing, Ester's eyes widened. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. _"Is that what I think it is?"_ She said only to herself, as she didn't want to assume anything. When she did that, Ester usually wound up feeling like an idiot.

When Jarrod opened up the box, revealing the prettiest diamond ring she'd ever seen, Ester's hands flew to her mouth and she gasped. He took a hold of her one wrist, brought her hand down and laid the box in her hand. Afterwards, he signed, "Stay here. Love you. Marry me."

Ester's head was reeling as she again looked at the oval shaped diamond sparkling up at her. Tears started running down her cheeks. Jarrod's heart skipped a beat. He didn't know whether her reactions were good or not. He made the sign he and she had picked to represent her name and then asked what was wrong.

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" she cried as she threw her arms around his neck and held on tight. "You bet I'll marry you. I'll marry you a hundred times over if you want!"

Jarrod didn't care if it meant having to hear a bunch of garbled sounds, he stood up, as did Ester, let out a loud cry of delight and swung his bride to be around in circles. When he stopped, their faces were inches apart. "I love you, Ester Mandrel." Jarrod spoke the words though they were nowhere near understandable. It didn't matter though; Ester still understood the meaning behind the noise.

"I love you too." She whispered as she reached up and took a hold of the sides of his face. That did it. Jarrod pulled her close and kissed her with everything he had. By the time they parted Jarrod was wishing they could just elope. Only he knew better, Ester had mentioned the fact that while she did not want a huge wedding the day she married, she did want one.

"Picnic over. I take you home." Jarrod signed and then took her by the hand.

Ester knew he meant her home and she knew it was a bit wicked on her part, only she didn't resist the urge to tease him. "I would think that at least your mother would object to my moving in with you just yet. I mean, she wasn't too pleased when I backed you up on simply signing, unless you decided different."

Jarrod started laughing, again not caring about the garbled sounds that came out. "My wife soon." He signed and then pulled her to him. He held her close, but dared not kiss her again. He just knew if he did they'd be having a shotgun wedding, and he didn't want that for her. After a few moments, he let her go. They wasted no time in cleaning up and heading back into town and to the home she shared with her brother.

When Jarrod pulled the surrey to a stop in front of the simple two bedroom home Ester shared with Scott, he and Ester were startled to see Fred and Charlie, Fred's new deputy, talking to one very rattled Scott. Fred stopped talking as Jarrod helped Ester down.

"What wrong?" Jarrod signed while Ester translated.

Fred wished he'd had been better luck in learning sign language; he'd have like to be able to sit down with Jarrod and talk to him one on one with no one present. As it was, he was far too busy. "The museum was broken into last night and robbed. It's the fourth robbery this month. We thought we had a lead this morning, but it led to a dead end."

Jarrod's face showed his shock, as did Ester's. "Then why are you here now?" Ester asked before Jarrod could sign the same question.

"We're just trying to see if anyone saw anything is all. Don't suppose you were in your office late last night and saw anything suspicious?" Fred looked at Jarrod and asked.

"In office." Jarrod signed as he ran a quick review of the night before. The only person he'd seen was Sean Archer, and the man had been walking calmly towards his house. He would not call that suspicious. "Sorry, saw nothing not normal." His frustration at not being able to help Fred showed in his stressed out eyes. The lawman understood and excused himself and his deputy.

Scott watched as both Ester and Jarrod's curious expressions dissolved and transformed into radiating happiness. He finally took time to look down at his sister's hand. He felt like someone hit his heart as it seemed to stop and then he let out a holler and slapped Jarrod on the back. "Way to go! Congratulations you two!"

"Lower voice." Jarrod signed very forcefully. "Not tell family yet. Come tell you, you closer. Now, we go tell my family." He slid his arm around Ester unable to stop beaming from ear to ear. Scott laughed and told the two lovebirds to get on their way. Even if he wanted to see Jarrod's family's reaction, he had work to do.

Jarrod helped Ester back in the surrey and started down the street. As they pass the Hardware store, Jarrod saw Sean and Chris talking next to the store and glancing towards the alley. He stiffened as he realized he'd gotten so busy the evening he'd followed Sean into the alley and the next day, he'd completely forgotten to talk to Brigham or any of his brothers. Maybe, with a fourth robbery happening, it was time he remembered.


	18. Chapter 18

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Eighteen**

Heath was just coming out of the barn when he saw Jarrod and Ester driving up in the surrey. Jarrod climbed down and waved him over before helping Ester down. Heath hurried over to where his brother and Ester stood. "What's up?" Heath asked one re reach the couple.

Wanting to tell the whole family about his engagement at the same time, Jarrod nodded "Come inside."

The fact that his brother and Ester were both wearing smiles as wide as Texas had Heath pretty much guessing what his brother wanted. He would have been able to confirm his suspicion if it weren't for the fact that Jarrod hand was covering Ester's left one. Since he wasn't about to tell his oldest brother he had to let go of his gal's hand, Heath simply followed them inside, his smile now imitating his brothers.

Audra was sitting on the couch, but no one else was in sight. "Where mother? Where Nick?" Jarrod asked.

"Mother's upstairs, and Nick said something about having to deal with some ranch business before heading into the study." Audra answered.

"I'll get Nick." Heath volunteered. "Would you get mother?"

That request had Audra's attention faster than any new dress could have gotten it. What was going on? She would have loved to just know before she went to get her mother, only she knew Jarrod would not go for it. If he wanted the whole family present, then he wouldn't be saying a word until everyone was present. "Okay." Audra put down her embroidery and went to do as her brother said.

While Heath and Audra went to get Nick and his mother, Jarrod led Ester over to the fireplace. He hoped everyone in the family would be excited about the upcoming wedding when they were told. He told himself it was an unnecessary worry and to relax, only his nerves didn't seem to be listening. Ester seemed to read his mind.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Jarrod. If anyone in your family had strong objections to us being together, I'd think they'd have said something before now." She smiled as she said the words and gave his hand squeeze. She would have done more but Nick and Heath were entering the room, and Audra was following her mother down the stairs.

Nick, who like Heath wondered if a certain announcement was about to be made had, had to bite his tongue in order not to let the assumption slip out of his mouth. "So," Nick spoke up only his mother and sister were in the room, "what's so fired important that you had to have Heath drag me away from what I was doing?" He was acting like he was irritated, but his laughing eyes betrayed him.

Jarrod had to smile and chuckle as he looked at his family and then at Ester. He thought again how, once Ester had said yes, he was sure he wouldn't feel so nervous. If only that was the case. He let go of Ester's hand, making it so both Heath and Nick were able to steal a glance at it. Both men had to fight to keep the grins off their faces as Jarrod signed, "Ask Ester marry me. She say yes. We engaged."

"YES!" Audra squealed with delight. She liked Ester and had so wanted to hear such an announcement.

"Way to go!" Nick, who had been sitting down on the chair nearest the living room entrance, jumped to his feet and quickly moved over to where Jarrod and Ester were standing. He slapped Jarrod on the back. "Congratulations! About time we had a wedding around here!"

Heath, who was wearing one of his rare huge grins, gave Ester a hug as he said, "Welcome to the family."

Victoria waited they had all given their congratulations to the happy couple and hugs and back slapping were done before she made her way to her oldest son. Due to the memory of how quickly his first marriage had tragically ended, she prayed like mad that this time around would be different for her oldest. Smiling at the happy couple, she asked, "So, when exactly are you planning this wedding?"

Jarrod signed "December 15" and then waited for the explosion he was sure would come. After all, December 15 was only a month away! Sure enough, he wasn't surprised when Audra and his mother started protesting.

"That's not enough time! There's so much to be done. There's…" Victoria raised her voice just a little, and then it was only to put emphasis on her words. She was stopped when Jarrod held up his hand.

"Not big wedding. Have wedding here. Family, few friends. No more." He and Ester had talked about it all the way home. While he would have waited and would've given Ester a big wedding no matter the cost, she had begged him for a small simple wedding. Since he didn't care either way, he was not going to fight her over it.

Audra's face showed her disappointment; she always loved big weddings. However, she quickly replaced the disappointed look with a smile. "I can help you find a nice wedding dress! And, if we can't find one you like, Mrs. Cooper can surely make you one!" Mrs. Cooper was the new dressmaker in town. It hadn't taken long for the young woman and new dressmaker to become friends.

"You're not getting away without a bachelor's party either!" Nick and Heath both ribbed their brother. They had no intentions of letting Jarrod get married without a proper send off. They were sure McCall and the boys would agree with them.

Victoria was not at all happy with such a fast wedding, but she also knew if she pushed for the two to push the wedding date back they would probably just run off and get married. No, if her oldest was getting married, she wanted to make sure he was married in their church or at the house, not off in some courtroom with only a judge and, maybe, a clerk for a witness. "It sounds like we best get busy." Victoria conceded then smiled politely as she embraced Jarrod and Ester, and then slipped out of the room as her children commenced in excited conversation.


	19. Chapter 19

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Nineteen**

While Ester made her way out to the Verandah where Victoria stood looking up at the stars that were just popping their heads out for the night, Jarrod and his siblings remained in the living room still celebrating Jarrod and Ester's engagement. As observant as ever, when Victoria had left the living room Ester had noticed. The first possible chance she had, the young woman followed knowing full well that, while Mrs. Barkley _was_ proud of her son, Victoria wasn't altogether thrilled about the upcoming marriage. Not that she was against it, but obviously the older woman had reservations and that had shown in her quiet retreat from the big room. The others may not have noticed, however Ester could see them. She could also guess the reason for Jarrod's mother reacting the way she was.

"Beautiful night, looks like every star is out." Ester stood, arms folded, and looked at the sky. She figured she didn't have to try to push Victoria to talk. No, she knew full well Victoria Barkley knew how to speak her mind without any urging.

Victoria had to admit; she admired the young twenty-four year old woman before her. She wasn't intimated by those around her, even when they disagreed with her, and Victoria did disagree with Ester on one major point…Jarrod's speech. She had been just as loud as Nick and Audra had been, but unlike her hot tempered son and high spirited daughter, Victoria had not yet accepted the fact that Jarrod should need to use sign language as his primary form of communication. "Why did you encourage my son to stop working on his speech? He was getting better."

Ester felt her heart go out to Victoria. She couldn't tell the woman she knew how she felt; she didn't. She'd never been married, bore a son, raised him and then watched him struggle to recover from such an incident as Jarrod had suffered from. She could only imagine how badly she'd want her child to back to "normal", if such a word should even be used. Though, she could understand the desire to hear his voice again. There were some nights she remembered what little conversation the two of them had had that night she'd come to his rescue outside Pinewood. His voice had sounded like music to her ears then. A part of her would always want to hear it again; still, she'd heard Jarrod's speech when he left Redwood City and knew what it was now. As much as it hurt to admit it; his voice _wasn't_ any better.

Ester gave her a genuine, sympathetic, smile as the wind began to blow through the air and the sound of crickets singing started ringing throughout the ranch. She then started to answer the woman's question, "Mrs. Barkley, I don't blame you for wanting to believe that's the case. I really don't. And I won't stand here and argue with you on how Jarrod sounds when he tries to talk. However," she pulled herself up and stood as straight as possible, "I do want to ask you two simple questions, ones you do not have to answer out loud."

The fact the young woman spoke politely and with genuine feeling caught Victoria's attention and told her that she needed to hear Ester out. "What are the questions?" Victoria asked, keeping her eyes on the woman her oldest intended to marry.

Knowing she could be treading on thin ice, Ester asked as kindly and politely as she could, stressing some of the words she spoke, "Have you really, I mean **really **listened** and **looked at Jarrod when he tries to speak?" Ester looked towards the open French doors behind them; doors leading back into the house. She could see Jarrod and his brothers just entering the room. It looked as if they were going to start having a game of pool. She looked back at Victoria and finished with, "Or, maybe, justmaybe, is there a chance you've only seen and heard what you've** wanted** to?

Victoria stiffened and started to open her mouth only she stopped as Heath's voice come out the slightly open doors. He was joking around with his brothers. "Just have Jarrod talk to the troublemakers. They don't know sign language."

Being in quite the good mood, Jarrod stopped signing and said something totally indiscernible. Without thinking, Nick's face filled with puzzlement as he exclaimed, "WHAT?" His reaction had all three brothers laughing and, for the first time, Victoria really listened to the garbled noise her oldest son made when he talked and laughed. She had to quickly turn around, so as to hide the tears that wanted to come.

Ester, sensitive to Victoria's feelings, stepped up behind her and gently laid her hand on Victoria's upper arm. When she spoke, Ester's concern for her future mother-in-law could be heard loud and clear. "Mrs. Barkley, I won't ever push him to do anything that's not for his own good. However, as I've stated before, I will _not_ try and force him to do something that he finds demeaning and crushes his self esteem. Please," Ester quietly begged, "believe me; I'll do my best by him."

Victoria took a deep breath and turned around. While her tears would later wet her pillow, she simply forced herself to smile as she embraced Ester. If her son had to find himself living out the rest of his days with this condition, at least he had been blessed with a woman such as Ester Mandrel. "I'm sure you will and," Victoria whispered the words as she felt herself choke up with emotion, "the name's Victoria."

While Victoria and Ester talked out on the Verandah, Heath and Nick talked to Jarrod about the side doors to the Hardware store and the Mercantile. "He had to have gone inside the Hardware store." Nick said as Heath landed yet another pool ball into the right, middle, side pocket.

"Why?" Jarrod's eyes brows furrowed just a little bit as he signed the question.

"Because," Heath answered as Nick took his turn at the game they were playing, "the General Store covered their entrance way with bricks."

"I don't know why it's so fired important to know which building he went into." Nick looked at both his brothers after watching his ball barely miss its hole. "It's not like Mr. Anderson or Mr. Snow have reported any thing missing these past few weeks." Then, due to the fact that Jarrod had mentioned Chris Hall was with Sean Archer, he added, "Though, if Sean has sunk low enough to hang around Chris, I'd say we best keep an eye on those two."

Jarrod agreed and then went to work on winning the game.

**0000**

Phil Archer stood in his office, his face full of shock. He couldn't believe what Fred Madden was standing in front of him saying the things he was. Sure, he'd heard the museum had been robbed a few nights ago. However, he'd been waiting to hear that they'd caught the thief and needed him to prosecute him. He sure hadn't expected the law to show up claiming he was the mastermind behind it all! "What is this, some kind of sick joke?"

While Fred could care less for the way the district attorney had behaved towards Jarrod Barkley, he hadn't wanted to believe what his deputy had told him either. He couldn't deny the evidence though. "I'm afraid not, Phil. The museum was robbed again last night. Two men started running when Charlie, my deputy, saw. He was able to catch one of the thieves and pick up a piece of paper the other man dropped." Fred scratched the back of his neck. "It was Chris Hall that Charlie caught."

Phil exploded. "And he's the reason you're here? You know that man lies through his teeth! Why he's out of prison, I don't even know!"

When Fred's deputy stepped inside the room with handcuffs in his hands, Phil again exploded. "I did not have anything to do with the paintings being taken! You have got to know that, Fred!"

"Not according to Chris and the paper I picked up," Charlie spoke up. "It was instructions for them to take the paintings, along with other stolen goods, to a certain location. The location is supposed to belong to 'the boss' as he put it. Do I have to say where that was?"

Phil paled. He knew of only one place that the stolen goods could be that would make the law think Chris Hall was telling the truth concerning about him; his spare house outside Stockton! "I'm not guilty." He sank to the chair next to his desk. He was still muttering he was innocent when Charlie had him stand up and slapped the handcuffs on him.

"I suggest you get yourself a good defense attorney, especially since the most expensive painting is still missing." Fred said quietly as Phil was led out of his office.


	20. Chapter 20

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Twenty**

Brigham Taylor had ridden his horse out to the Barkley ranch, stopped under a tree and watched as Jarrod and Ester ran around in a circle near a small stream that ran through the land owned by the Barkley Family. He smiled as Jarrod finally caught his fiancée causing her to let out a scream of laughter. Brigham hated to be the one to break the happy couple up on such a nice autumn day, only he had no choice. He pushed his horse forward.

The sound of the approaching horse quickly put a stop to Jarrod's and Ester's fun. Jarrod and she let go of each other and waited for their mutual friend to reach them and dismount.

"Sorry to rain on your party," Brigham said as he stood keeping his horse's reins in his hands, "but, I had no choice."

Jarrod didn't like the sound of that, nor did Ester. If Brigham said he had no choice, then it meant he had absolutely _**no **_choice in the matter.

"What happen?" Jarrod kept his eye on his law partner as he signed the question.

Brigham took a deep breath and told them of the events that had taken place the day before. Jarrod and Ester both felt their hearts stop completely. They couldn't believe what they were hearing. Though, if they had thought they had heard it all, they were wrong. Jarrod's eyes widened in disbelief and Ester's felt like hers were going to fall out, as Brigham informed them why he'd made the trip out to the meadow. "Phil wants to see both of us at the jail, Jarrod. I…" Brigham paused and then said, as he shook his head slightly, "I think he's going to ask us to defend him. Well, that is, for me to defend in court and for you to do the research and compile the written evidence for the case outside the court, along with sitting at the defense table as you've done in the past."

Jarrod felt one emotion after another running through him. In fact, the emotions felt as if they were competing for first place. He turned around and walked a few feet from the pond and simply gazed ahead, his back to the body of water. Brigham and Ester looked at each other then went to join Jarrod.

After what seemed like an eternity, Brigham sighed and said, "He is swearing up and down that he had no knowledge of the robberies and that he never gave anyone any permission to keep any stolen items in his spare house."

Jarrod didn't know what to think. He remembered how Phil had acted at the museum, how badly the man had wanted that one painting. If he was planning on stealing the painting, along with others items, why would he offer to buy anything? A part of him said to take the case up without another thought, only problem was…he hadn't forgot how hard Phil had tried get him kicked out of the law field altogether. He couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, one that showed how ironic he found the whole situation. He was brought out of his thoughts when Brigham spoke up again, "Well, should we go see him or not?"

Jarrod ethical and legal oath was fighting against his personal response. He wanted to tell Brigham the two of them should work together to defend the man, the other part wanted to throw the annoying, old pest to the dogs. Turning to Brigham, Jarrod signed. "I think. Wait please."

Brigham nodded and walked his horse over to a small boulder that sat at least on a hundred yards away; leaving Jarrod alone with Ester.

When Brigham walked away, Jarrod signed to Ester. "What I do? Phil try destroy my work. Want me go away. Now? He want my office help?" It's not that he didn't know the choice was his to make or that he'd given up making his own decisions. He was simply feeling torn and looking for someone to lean on.

Ester sensed what he was really asking. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest, an action that earned her Jarrod's arms wrapping themselves around her. So much for enjoying what was probably the last good day of fall; just the two of them. "I can't tell you what to do, Jarrod. However," she tilted head backwards just a little, "I will say that no matter what you choose, I'll stand by you."

Jarrod rewarded her words with a smile as he gently pushed Ester's head back onto his chest and continued to hold her as he thought on Phil Archer and the robberies. Phil was a lot of things, narrow minded being on top of the list; still, he wasn't a thief. Jarrod was sure of that. As Jarrod continued to think on the robberies, he kept seeing Sean run down the alley and then disappearing into what had to be the hardware store. Then he recalled Sean walking quietly down the darkened street the night Fred questioned Jarrod about. He remembered how many times he'd seen Sean Archer talking with Chris, a known career criminal. Somehow his gut was telling him that if anyone was involved in the robberies those two were.

Sighing he pulled away from Ester and signed. "I need go jail. See Phil with Brigham. Maybe he tell truth. Maybe my N.e.m.e.s.i.s…" He spelt out using his fingers, "Innocent."

"You're Nemesis, Jarrod? I don't think so; an adversary, yes, but a nemesis is usually of equal intellect and power, poor Phil…"

Jarrod laughed, and signed, "I go. My duty." He then slid his hand down her cheek and mouthed silently, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me." She answered as she slipped her hand into his. "I'll always stand by you." They then walked over to Brigham to tell him of Jarrod's decision…he'd go with Brigham to the jail after he took Ester back to the main house to be with his family.

**0000**

Phil lay on the cot in a cell, his one arm over his forehead and the other hanging loose over the bed. His lunch still sat on the stool that set in the cell with him. He had barely eaten breakfast and had no appetite for lunch. When he heard the door open, he stood up and watched as Brigham and Jarrod walked towards him.

He bit his lower lip. When he'd first felt the handcuffs on his wrists, Phil knew if anyone could prove his innocence it was these two men, but he hadn't know if they'd come or not, not with the way he'd acted towards Jarrod and his career. One look in Brigham's doubting eyes and Jarrod's somewhat hostile ones, and Phil believed he still might have to look for help elsewhere. "Thanks for coming." He swallowed hard as he looked upon the two men who were fast becoming known in the law field as 'partners no one wanted to go up against. "I…I wasn't sure you would." He looked at Jarrod.

Jarrod, fighting to keep his professional face on, though the look upon it had more of the appearance of a hard stone, signed very forcefully response to his personal adversary. Phil then looked at Brigham for translation. Just as stone faced as Jarrod, Brigham told Phil, "He said it better be good."


	21. Chapter 21

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"Thank you, Silas." Victoria watched as Silas put the remainder of the food up on the table. The food he'd prepared always looked, smelled and tasted delicious. She had to smile as, if on cue, one by one her sons and daughter, along with their guest made their way to the table. Ester, who had moved into the boarding house in town when her brother had gone back to Redwood City, had been invited to stay a few days. The boarding house was being renovated and her room was one of the rooms being redone.

After Victoria had blessed the food, Nick looked at Jarrod and asked him what he'd been dying to ask him all day. "Is it true what I hear about Phil Archer?" He barked; his disgust evident in his voice. If he had taken time to notice the displeased look upon his mother's face, Nick might have apologized. As it was, he simply looked at Jarrod and waited for an answer.

Jarrod stiffened slightly. The conversation that had taken place in the jail in between Phil, Brigham and himself; Brigham playing translator the entire time, still played on his mind. Slowly, Jarrod nodded as he signed, "True."

"I don't believe it! How can that man ask such a thing! After all he's done!" Nick's bellowing didn't get far before Victoria turned on him.

"Nicholas Jonathon Barkley! You will lower your voice." Victoria's voice was firm and the look she gave her second oldest son severe.

Nick knew better than to argue with his mother, so he lowered his voice. However, the bark in his voice did not leave. "He does everything he can to get rid of Jarrod and now he wants help from Brigham and him?" Nick stared in disbelief and added sarcastically, "The two of you should let someone else worry about our, _dear_ prosecuting attorney."

While Audra did not raise her voice like Nick, she did side with him. "Amen to that! Mr. Archer has a lot of nerve asking for Brigham and you to help, especially with Thanksgiving just around the corner and your wedding next month, along with Christmas!"

Heath might have felt like someone pulled the rug out from under him when he heard the news, and he might have said something, but he could tell how uncomfortable Jarrod was. That being the case, he simply ate his food in silence.

Ester looked at Jarrod. She felt downright horrible for him. She could see how torn up inside he really was. She'd often heard how Jarrod would always go after the truth, no matter what the cost. But now, with the trouble Phil Archer had made in the past, had Jarrod been pushed past his limits?

His wedding…Jarrod looked at Ester. He could see the sympathy she had for him in her eyes. _"I'll only take the case, if you're going to be working with me."_ Brigham's words rang in Jarrod's ears. If they took the case, it would take time to investigate various things, check out a few people, Sean Archer being on the top of his list due his association with Chris Hall and how the man hadn't wanted Phil watching him the day Jarrod looked out his office window. Would all of this interfere with the wedding?

"Jarrod?" Victoria looked at her oldest son with concern in her eyes. "No one is," she said as she sent Nick and Audra both stern glares, "telling you what to do." When it came to her oldest, she had stopped trying to do that years ago. He'd proven early on that he wasn't one that she needed to worry about. Well, the only time he'd ever done that was when *****Cass Hyatt had tried killing him and killed Beth instead. "We are just concerned."

While none of the Barkleys were shocked, they were a bit surprised when Jarrod pushed back his chair, threw down his utensils and stormed out of the room. The room was eerily quiet as Ester stood up quietly, excused herself and hurried out after Jarrod. After a solid two or three minutes of silence, Audra spoke up. "I guess we shouldn't have said anything."

"And why not?" Nick bellowed again as he threw his hand up into the air. "Phil Archer has done nothing but cause Jarrod trouble since the day Jarrod got well enough to start going to the office and start doing paperwork again. Besides…" he lowered his voice slightly when his mother sent him another piercing glare, "I understand they found papers in *his filing cabinet, ones that state the selling price of each painting and prospective buyers for each one. I think the man's guilty and just wants off the hook!"

Ester could hear Nick continuing his rampage as she opened the living room door, but shut the loud rancher out when she shut the door. Walking at a fast pace, Ester soon found Jarrod. He was leaning against the corral. Funny; When Jarrod disappeared in the house, he went straight to the study, but if he went outside, he went to the corral first. Ester guessed it was because, since losing his natural voice, Jarrod had been splitting his time in between the legal office and the ranch.

Jarrod turned his head when he heard the light footsteps and swish of a skirt. His face lit up when he saw Ester walking up beside him. When she simply put her hand over his and looked straight ahead, Jarrod wasn't surprised. Ester never vocally pushed him to open up and talk to her; she simply waited. He'd found out early on, this woman had the patience of Job. He knew she'd stay right beside him until he talked…even it meant staying up late.

"He try destroy my work." Jarrod sighed as he turned to face her and signed the words.

How Ester wanted to just hold Jarrod and make all the confusion she saw in his eyes and in his words go away, but she couldn't. Nodding, she answered, "Yes, he did." It was a fact she didn't see any reason to argue with.

"He think person can't talk means he become stupid. Not true. Now he wants Brigham, me help him? Need take care wedding not court case!" Jarrod practically pounded out the last few signs. That, and his facial expressions, told Ester just how upset and torn he really us. Though, she'd not stand by and let the wedding be used as an excuse not to defend what might very well be an innocent man.

"Jarrod." Ester took a hold of his hands and looked into his face. "I'll be your wife no matter what. This is not going to stop us, unless you let it." She took a deep breath and then asked the one question she knew would most help to him. "Do you still believe in fighting for justice no matter what?" she then let go of his hands and started to go back into the house only to find Jarrod pulling her back to him.

Holding her with one hand, he signed with his free one, "Still believe. Afraid something happen." Then, with a bit of laughter in his eyes, he signed, "Choose between you, Phil Archer. You win every time." He pulled her to him and started kissing her, gently first and then with more passion. If he'd taken time to look, he'd have seen Nick and Heath looking out the window watching him and Ester. Both brothers smiling from ear to ear. Ester Mandrel was the best thing to happen to their brother since Beth had died.

**000**

***In chapter 16, there was originally a secret comparement int Phil's desk and papers put inside it. Since the story took twists I didnt' expect, I went back and edited that part out. **

***Reference to the episode "Days of Wrath" again.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Twenty Two**

The saloon in Modesto was crowded as Hester made her way to the far corner table. Since she was dressed like all the other saloon girls, no one paid her any mind as the gentleman at the table pulled out her chair and helped her sit down.

"What will Mr. Anderson do if he finds out where you're at?" Mr. Peterson, Stockton's museum curator, who had taken a leave of absence under the guise of 'feeling out of sorts since the second robbery', gave her a wicked smile as he asked the question.

Hester almost choked on her drink as she scoffed and answered, "That fool thinks I've gone to visit relatives in San Francisco. Now, let's stop this small talk. Your scheme to get Phil Archer in jail awaiting trial for attempting to steal those precious paintings and the theft of the one still missing worked. Now, keep your promise to me and tell me why you wanted him in there bad enough to pay me a thousand dollars up front with the promise of another $1,000 when he's actually convicted. That's a lot of money to put out just to put a man behind bars! " She had taken great risks into tricking Sean and Chris that she and her boss were helping them instead of using them, now she wanted answers; like yesterday.

Mr. Peterson lifted his tumbler of beer with both his hands. Since the woman wasn't exploding in rage over the missing painting, or how much money he planned to make when he sold it to a buyer back east who was moving to Australia, he knew the greedy, two faced woman either did not know about the missing piece of art, or just didn't care. Oh well, it simply meant he didn't have to worry about splitting the profit with anyone. As far as Hester's question went, Mr. Peterson leaned his chair up against the wall and let his mind wander back through time.

_ Zeb Peterson sat in the back of the courtroom. His "brother", a gentleman who been raised by Zeb's parents, but never officially adopted, was on trial for a crime he did not commit. No, his "brother" Jacob had a few problems, but lying and shirking his responsibilities were not on the list. That being the case, if the man said he'd spent the night watching cattle, he was doing just that. The "evidence" against him had been flimsy, but Phil Archer, eager to make a name for himself, had refused to look at the evidence supporting Jacob's innocence with any seriousness. That, and lack of witness to back him up, Jacob had been wrongly sent to prison. Oh sure, later, the real crook had been caught and Jacob was released, but could the self righteous Phil Archer do such a simple thing as apologize? No. If anything, he'd made it impossible for Jacob to stay in the area. The man had moved to Montana six months ago and been killed by men eager to make their riches off other people._

"Well?" Hester was tired of waiting and raised her voice just enough to show her impatience.

Mr. Peterson put his glass down and growled. "Let's just say I'm paying an old friend's debt! Now, I suggest you get back to Stockton and that good man of yours. You'll get the rest of your money soon." He stood up and walked away, leaving one very unhappy woman behind.

Standing outside the saloon, Mr. Peterson began chuckling as he thought on how he'd successfully set Phil Archer up and how solid the evidence was against him, including the papers that he'd been able to slip into Archer's his files.

**0000**

Jarrod again stood outside Phil's cell with Ester by his side. He might not have come, but, learning that Phil had refused to pay his bail and was insisting on staying in the jail, his curiosity had been peaked. It was the holiday season. What man would voluntarily spend his holidays in a jail cell? Especially one that claimed so vehemently to be innocent of the crime he stood accused of.

Phil, who was shocked to see Jarrod and his fiancée coming to see him the day before Thanksgiving, said nothing as he simply looked at his visitors and waited to find out. It's not that he didn't want to ask questions; he just didn't know what to say. He'd had plenty of time to think about the way he'd acted towards Jarrod and, the more he'd thought on it, the more he was astounded that Jarrod would even consent to be in the same room as him. Finally, Ester broke the silence after Jarrod signed to Phil.

"He wants to know why you choose to stay here if you're as innocent as you claim to be." Ester had been curious about that one as well. In fact, it and the holiday season were the two reasons she had supported Jarrod in coming to see Phil.

Phil's shoulders slumped slightly forward as he leaned against the walls of his cell. "For two reasons, I have nothing but an empty house to go to. As you know my parents are dead and my only brother lives back east. And two, you said there was a picture still missing. I figure whoever has it will try selling it. If it's sold, and I'm in here, there's less chance I'll be blamed for that one as well."

While Jarrod could see where the man was coming from, he hated seeing Phil spend the holidays alone even after everything he'd done. Only problem was… there was no way his family would want him at the ranch, especially since his Aunt Clara would be there. He looked at Ester and began signing. Because Ester looked surprised and began signing back without talking, Phil was left to wonder what was going on. After a few minutes Ester shrugged her shoulders and looked at Phil. She shocked him when she asked, "Would you mind if Jarrod and I talk to the judge about taking you out to the café for a small Thanksgiving dinner sometime?"

Phil, who had moved closer to the edge of the cot and had his hands on the side of the bed, literally felt shock waves go through him as his hands slipped off the edge. For a split second, he could see himself standing in the Barkley's living room being invited to go fishing by this same man. _"You've been a fool, Phil Archer, the biggest fool of all." _"Thank you." Phil managed to speak through his shock, silently vowing to change his attitude once and for all.


	23. Chapter 23

**Paint Me a Picture Chapter Twenty Three**

"Are you insane!" Nick, who had been sitting in the chair nearest to the fireplace, flew out of it as Jarrod finished signing to the family about what he and Ester planned on doing after the festivities of the next day were over. "That man has done nothing but give you grief from the moment we brought you home and now, from what I can see, he is trying to use you and Brigham to get out of a mess he just happened to get caught at!" Heath and Audra felt just as strongly as Nick, but didn't get a chance to say anything before their mother reprimanded Nick.

"Nicholas, there is no reason to yell in this house!" Victoria's voice was only slightly raised; still, her tone spoke volumes. She then turned to face Jarrod. She may be in just as much shock at the rest of her family; however, she didn't believe raising her voice or yelling would be of any help to anyone. "I might have my reservations, Jarrod, but I do appreciate the fact that you are not trying to bring him here." She glanced out through the dining room entrance; everyone knew she was thinking about their Aunt Clara, who had begged to be excused from dinner as she was just too tired from her long trip to eat anything. "Now let's eat supper and have a relaxing conversation." Jarrod and the others had to grin. They knew that meant the case was not to be discussed further in any manner, shape or form.

Audra, who had been helping plan the small wedding that would be held in the home a mere two weeks, spoke up. "Jarrod, do you think there's a chance you could talk Ester into having a slightly bigger wedding?" Somehow, she wanted to see more than the two families, including Maria who was now Scott Mandrel's fiancée and the reverend plus his wife at Jarrod's wedding. Her brother deserved more of a celebration.

Jarrod smiled at his sister. He knew of her concern and appreciated it. However, after many long talks with Ester, he wasn't going to press the issue. Truth was… Ester had said the only way she'd have a larger wedding than what was already planned was if Jarrod really wanted one. In fact, she had him laughing when she informed him all they'd be doing is meeting people they already knew, were going to know or didn't even want to know. "No, small wedding fine. Have lifetime with friends, family. Stop worry. We fine." His eyes and mouth smiled as he signed the answer, but the signs were made with just a enough emphasis to send a clear message... the subject was to be dropped as it was not open for discussion.

**0000**

Brigham, who was getting what he could do done before Thanksgiving, was in his office when Heath knocked on the door and entered. Knowing his brother's business partner would be working late, Heath had slipped into town after he'd decided he didn't want Jarrod's evening with Ester disturbed. Because of the troubled look that was on the blonde haired rancher's face, Brigham put down his pencil and sat back. He watched as Heath made his way towards him and sat down on the chair in front of the desk. "What's wrong?" Brigham asked once Heath was seated.

Heath didn't answer at first, his mind on the poker game he'd been involved in before going home for supper. He took a deep breath as he tapped the arm of the chair and finally answered. "Not too sure," he said as he leaned slightly forward, "but, two strangers were in the saloon today. At first I didn't pay much attention to what they were saying. I mean, they were just talking everyday stuff at the table behind me, and the poker game was more than interesting."

"But?" Brigham questioned pretty sure it was on Heath's lips just before he paused.

"But," Heath started speaking again, "the one fellow said not to worry that Mr. Peterson had assured him there wasn't a problem, told the other fellow that 'the man said the deal was still on in spite of this mess'."

Brigham's eyes widened. He knew of three men who could claim the title of Mr. Peterson. One was a small farmer outside Stockton, one worked at Stockton's Insane Asylum and the museum's curator. The only "mess" he knew of at the moment was the reoccurring robberies, which had stopped once Chris Hall had been caught. "You think the museum curator is involved?" Brigham had known the man for a number of years and he had never had a problem with the museum's employee. As upset as the man had been over the missing paintings, Brigham Taylor had a hard time believing that the man could be involved in the case.

Heath leaned back and kicked his feet upon the corner of the desk, "I don't know, but I'm beginning to wonder if, by chance Phil is telling the truth. I wonder if, by chance, someone hates him enough to set him up."

It was a possibility, and Brigham admitted it. As he started to put his papers away, Brigham told Heath to go home for the night and to enjoy Thanksgiving the next day. It's not like the case was going to go away.

**0000**

Jarrod sat on the steps of the boarding house Ester was staying at. Ester sat next to him with her hand in his. The air was just crisp enough to make it necessary for both to have their coats on. Both were more than amused because the new owner, a Widow Hammer, was standing in the office window peaking out. "We have company." Jarrod chuckled as he signed to Ester.

Ester laughed softly and leaned against Jarrod's shoulder. "I know. You'd think the woman would take the time to learn sign language if she likes snooping on us so much."

Jarrod chuckled again as he wrapped his left arm around Ester while he signed "Maybe, she need life" with his right one. That statement only made Ester laugh louder. Silence fell in between them once the laughter died down. After the stress of the past couple of weeks and the stress that was sure to be waiting for them after Thanksgiving, it felt good to simply sit and relax in each other's arms. Only when it was absolutely necessary did Jarrod and Ester stand up.

"Tomorrow." Jarrod held her hand up and made the sign for tomorrow using her hand. It made Ester smile.

"Tomorrow." She promised as Jarrod lowered his head and pulled her to him.

If the next two weeks didn't fly by, Jarrod swore he'd find some dynamite and blow old man time out of the sky.


	24. Chapter 24

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Twenty Four**

Brigham was sitting behind his desk when Jarrod opened the door and walked in with Ester right behind him. Thanksgiving had gone off nicely; even the small dinner with Phil had been pleasant enough. It had seemed like the cares of the world would stay away forever.

Alas, as nice as that illusion was, the days following Thanksgiving had brought a stark reminder that no one could make the hands of time stand still. There had been more investigating and inquires, especially with what Heath had told Brigham the night before Thanksgiving. With their wedding only a week away, both Jarrod and Ester were eager to get most, if not all, of the answers.

One look at their faces and Brigham knew Jarrod and Ester had had very little, if any, luck when it came to their investigation…Ester had gone along to play translator for her fiancé.

"Did you learn anything?" Brigham asked after Jarrod shut the door.

Jarrod pulled a chair away from the wall for Ester to sit on and told him what Phil had told him the day before. "Not much. Sean seen with Chris many times. Fred say law want question Sean." He finished saying that, other than that, they had found out very little except for the interesting fact that Chris had also been seen talking to Hester Mills a few times. It might not have been anything to take note of, but the woman prided herself in "associating only with the best". Chris didn't exactly fit that catergory. Jarrod and Ester both hoped Brigham had found something more.

Brigham leaned back in his chair. "According to a few very reliable sources, Chris Hall has not only been seen with Sean Archer. He's been seen with…" he paused and then said, "Mr. Peterson, the museum's curator, as well." He paused still having a hard time accepting the fact that such as man as Mr. Peterson was involved. "I've done a little digging and found out that Peterson is not only a museum curator, but he has relatives and friends who deal with buying and selling artworks. Also, get this; Hester Mills did time in a prison back east. She was part of a sting that involved arranging for a friend of hers to steal items of high value. Her associate would then turn around and resell them."

A light lit up in Jarrod's eyes and he signed, "Hester push for paintings. Hire Chris, maybe Sean, steal paintings- curator orders?"

` Brigham nodded, indicating that he'd had the very same thought. "It's a strong possibility. After what happened that day in the alley, it wouldn't hurt for someone to insist on looking at that side entrance again. Who knows, there might be more missing items or some clue we could use to get in the back of the Hardware store and search."

Jarrod nodded his head in agreement. "Have more luck if brothers with me. Mr. Anderson listen brothers." Jarrod figured it was because Mr. Anderson still had an attitude adjustment to make when it came to people who were different than him.

"Well, from everything else we learned, I'd say there's actually a chance Phil Archer is innocent like he says. I think there's a high chance Hester, Chris, Sean and, possibly, Mr. Peterson are behind this at least. Whether or not there really is another person involved I don't know. What matters most right now is that we get to the point where we are able to prove it." The fact that Brigham was a bit more nervous about that point showed by the way he continued tapping the desk with his pencil. After they'd spent a solid half hour discussing everything, Jarrod and Ester left; Ester to go the boarding house and Jarrod to find out if Heath and Nick were still in town.

**0000**

Jarrod, Nick and Heath stood in front of the Hardware Store's counter while Tom Anderson stood behind it with his jaw almost lying on the floor. Nick had just translated Jarrod's request to the gentleman. He couldn't believe what Jarrod Barkley had just asked. "Why check the side door again?" Tom snapped, more than offended that Hester's word was being questioned. At least, in his eyes it was. If it wasn't, why should Jarrod want to look for himself?

Jarrod didn't blame the man for being bent out of shape. If the shoe was on the other foot, he knew he'd have a problem with the request. It didn't matter though. True, he didn't see know why Hester would lie about it, but it didn't matter. The fact was that Jarrod_ knew_ Sean Archer had _not _been hiding in that alley when Jarrod was in it, along with what Brigham had told him, made him want to check the side door again. "Please, I look once. I promise." he signed as politely as he knew how and then waited, as did Heath.

Tom was still very unhappy at the insinuation that Ester had lied. However, knowing full well that once the Barkley family got an idea in their head they didn't let go until they got some answers, the storeowner led the three brothers to the back room. Once inside the old storage room, Jarrod headed for the side door which, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be sealed off.

Jarrod turned the handle; nothing happened. "I told you, that door hasn't been useable in ages." Tom folded his arms in disgust as Jarrod looked the door over.

Had he not been looking as close as he was, Jarrod might have missed the fact that there was a new looking indent just below the handle, as if it were meant for someone to grasp and pull on it. As it was he shocked both Tom and his brothers when he slid his hand into the indent and pulled the door open without a problem.

Tom had to sit down quickly; he couldn't believe his eyes_. "There's no need for you to go and check." Hester had talked softly and patted his shoulder, "You've had a long day behind the counter. I'll go check it." _The memory of Hester patiently talking him out of checking himself came back to him. At the time, he thought she was just being considerate. However, seeing the door had an extra handle hidden in plain view, made him doubt his original thought.

"I…I don't understand." Tom stammered as Jarrod shut the door and began looking around the mostly barren room, as did Heath and Nick. "She swore up and down it was secure." He paused and then said, almost too fast, "Maybe she just missed it. I mean, who thinks to do anything but turn a knob?"

Jarrod and his brothers knew the man had a point. They might even have agreed, but just as they went to do so, Jarrod spotted some crumpled up paper stuck between a box and the far right hand corner. Jarrod wasn't exactly sure why, but he felt as if someone was pulling him towards the partially hid item. Not fighting the feeling, he hurried over to the spot, leaned down and picked it up, and then straightened it up. As he read what was written, he felt his heart skip a beat and his mouth spread into a grin. The huge grin earned him three pair of eyes looking over his shoulder to read it too.

"It can't be!" Tom yelled as he saw the words written on the paper. It just couldn't be! He had checked his future bride out; he knew everything about her. Didn't he?

"What are we going to do?" Heath asked as Jarrod folded the paper up and slipped it into his pocket.

Jarrod folded the paper and put it in his pocket, and then answered, "Go back office. Talk, make plan."


	25. Chapter 25

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Twenty-Five **

"May I help you?" Hester Mills stood behind the counter of the Hardware store as Nick Barkley walked through the front door. The smile that was on her face was so insincere. In fact, Nick had thought from the moment Tom had introduced him to her that there was something fake about the woman. If it wasn't for the matter at hand, he'd not even had come in. "I wanted to talk to Tom." Nick hoped that lie, along with the others he was about to tell, would not be held against him. Only what choice did he, his brothers, and Brigham have? They had to throw out some bait if they wanted to catch any fish.

It was all she could do to continue smiling. Tom had shocked her just that morning by breaking off their engagement. He'd said he was sorry, but he wasn't as ready for marriage as he thought he was. Still, he'd asked her to continue working at the store, unless a better work opportunity came up for her. She was still boiling mad, so she lied through her teeth, "Tom isn't in right town right now. Maybe I can help you." She rested her one arm on the register while putting the palm of her other one on the counter.

"No." Nick started to act as if he meant to leave, and then stopped. Turning around, he purposely took time to look as if he was thinking. Inwardly, he had to laugh. Miss Mills was acting as if she was reading a suspenseful novel and was ready to hit the roof if someone didn't give her some answers. "Well, I guess I could leave a message for him."

Hester's ears perked up. While most of the messages ever left for her intended seldom amounted to much, others had proved quite fruitful. "Sure, what is it?" She asked as she picked up a pencil and paper.

Nick smiled politely as he began talking.

**0000**

Sean Archer was sitting at a table in the café, one that set behind more than one of the decorative plants that the café owner had only recently put in. He was trying to figure out where the missing picture had gone to. Unlike Hester, he was not only aware of it, but of it's worth. If it was missing, there was a chance he could find it, take it and sell it off himself. When the door opened and Brigham and the sheriff walked in, Sean's attention was diverted. Everyone knew Brigham Taylor and Jarrod Barkley were working together. Maybe, if he stayed where he was at, unseen, he would learn something. At least, that is what Sean hoped anyway.

Unbeknownst to Sean, Brigham knew full well where the man was sitting and had specifically requested a table he knew would be close enough to enable Sean to hear everything he and Fred said. He, Brigham, just hoped the sheriff would forgive him when the man learned of how he was using him at the moment. After all, it's not like Jarrod or he wanted to keep Fred in the dark.

"I can't believe you're serious." Fred stared at Brigham as they sat down. "If it's worth that much, why keep it in his office?"

Brigham shrugged his shoulders. "I guess since Chris is sitting in a jail cell, Jarrod figures it's safe enough."

Fred shook his head. "There were two men, but my deputy only caught one man. What if the other one is still around? What if he learns what you have told me? No, if you ask me, Jarrod would be better off sending that piece of art back where it came from, at least until Chris cracks and tells us who was working with him."

The two men continued to talk with Brigham keeping an eye on the foot that was slightly showing on the other side of the plants. He had to fight a grin as he could at least tell Jarrod that his fish had overheard everything. Now he just hoped the man would take the bait.

**000**

In spite of a blue and cloudless sky, the December day was arctic cold. Heath and Jarrod stood outside the museum and read the sign: BE BACK AT ONE O'CLOCK. It was almost one now. Heath hoped the curator was on time. He and Jarrod were supposed to meet Brigham and Nick back at the office around one-thirty. "You think they'll fall for it?" Heath turned away from the sign and looked at Jarrod, who looked as if his mind was elsewhere; it was.

_"Have you all gone and lost it? IF Mr. Peterson, Miss Mills or Sean Archer actually believes you have the most valuable painting this side of the Mississippi in your office, who knows what they will do! What if someone else hears about it? What if they go there while you're working?" Ester, already stressed over the wedding that was supposed to take place in a mere three days, was doing all she could not to raise her voice so loud as to make it so Audra or Victoria could hear the discussion going on in Jarrod's study._

_`Jarrod heard what she did not say. "I don't want to be your widow before I'm your wife." He stood up, walked around his desk and pulled her to him using his left arm. He wasn't surprised when she began another tirade._

_ "Jarrod Barkley! This conversation is not…" Ester's words were cut off when Jarrod placed the fingers of his free hand on her lips. A part of her wanted to continue yelling at him, the other half told her to calm down and listen. Feeling the arm around her stiffen ever so slightly, Ester stopped trying to talk. _

_ Jarrod removed his fingers from her lips and signed 'Trust me?"_

_ Ester felt herself fighting tears. She did trust him, only she was afraid too. "I don't want to lose you, Jarrod." She answered in a subdued tone of voice as she gazed into his gorgeous blue eyes. _

_ Jarrod smiled as he brushed her lips with his fingers before signing "Not lose me. You see. We belong each other." He then pressed his lips against hers as he held her as close to him as he could._

"Jarrod?" Heath waved his hand in front of Jarrod's eyes. He was relieved when his oldest brother smiled and signed for him to relax. He assured him that he, Jarrod, was sure that once all three suspects had the information, Nick, Mr. Taylor, and the two of them were planting that they would have a bite and haul in their catch.


	26. Chapter 26

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

Ester was standing on the Verandah of the Barkley home when Audra, who had been worried about her future sister-in-law, found her. She looked as if she was a million miles away. Audra couldn't blame her. She, like Ester, was extremely worried also. "They'll catch the real thief and this mess will be over." She gently laid her hand upon the young woman's shoulder, doing her best to give Ester some reassurance.

Ester turned her head slightly. "Funny," she spoke softly as she gave a small chuckle and somewhat of a smile on her face, "As I stand here waiting, I've been remembering that night in Pinewood. I think," she said as she looked at Audra and then back up at the stars in the night sky, "I've been in love with Jarrod since the moment I laid eyes on him. He's got to be all right. Whoever is the real crook, and if Phil Archer is innocent, just has to make a move tonight and then be caught. I don't want us to have this hanging over us on our wedding day." She didn't either. Not that she'd postpone it until it was over; she wouldn't. She just wasn't very fond of the idea.

"I can't say I would either." Audra leaned against the trellis as she joined Ester in her star gazing. "Let's not worry about it though. You're getting married soon. We can go over the plans again." Her eyes sparkled at the thought.

Ester laughed. She just loved Audra's enthusiasm. "What is there to go over? As far as guests goes, there's your immediate family and Aunt Clara. There's Scott, Maria and my oldest brother and his family. That's it. When it comes to the place, we're getting married in the living room, unless you're going to tell me that has changed. The Reverend and his wife will be here and we will have a small reception that night. It's all planned out."

"So," Audra laughed as she took a hold of the young woman's arm and pulled her towards the French doors which stood slightly open, "we can plan some more. Besides, it's freezing out here!" That was something Ester couldn't deny and she allowed Audra to succeed in getting her inside. Though, she still prayed Jarrod's plan would work, and the whole mess would be over with by the time she made it back to the boarding house.

**0000**

If anyone had been on the streets of Stockton that night, they'd have seen a couple of people hurrying towards Jarrod's office, but they were doing it from different directions and through back alleys, doing their best to have something to give them cover. The bait that Jarrod, his brothers, and Brigham had tossed out had indeed proved too much temptation for two of their suspects.

Jarrod was standing near his office door, knowing that he would be hidden if someone opened it up. He had his gun out of its holster and was holding it in his hand. He looked across the room. With the little light that was coming through the window, he could see the bookshelf his brother nick was hiding behind; it had been moved forward just enough to make it possible for him to get into position. Jarrod wasn't sure exactly where Heath and Brigham were, only that they had promised to be nearby. When he heard the back door, which sat close to his office creak quietly open, Jarrod put his hand on his gun and waited.

Hester, who did not know Tom Anderson had had a small hand in setting her up by letting her believe Nick's message, one that said he needed to tell a good friend of his to deliver the supposed painting earlier than expect, walked as quietly as she could. She'd done enough for Mr. Peterson while she'd been living in Stockton. If anyone had this rare painting Mr. Barkley had spoken of, she was going to get it. She opened the door and stepped inside. Turning up the light she saw the painting Nick had described hanging on the wall behind Jarrod's desk.

She couldn't help but admire the beautiful landscape painting. Though, she wondered if it was really as valuable as Nick Barkley had said. Personally, she'd never hang anything that expensive in her office…if she ever had one. "Some people are willing to pay way too much for a painting. Too bad Phil's in jail still; I could pin this on him like Mr. Peterson pinned everything else on him." She mumbled out load, speaking to who she assumed was only herself as she walked towards the painting.

Jarrod and Nick had still been shocked by her words. Jarrod had not been entirely convinced Phil wasn't involved and Nick was adamant the man had been involved somehow. They waited until Hester Miller actually had the painting in her hands before they left their hiding places and let themselves be seen and heard. "I suggest you put the painting down." Nick spoke as he and Jarrod cocked their pistols.

Hester's face went ten shades of white as she slowly did as she was told, but then she exploded. "What! What are…" Realizing she would be sent back to prison, Hester would have made a break for it in spite of the odds, but she was stopped by the sound of another pistol cocking; they all were.

"Drop your guns, fellows." Mr. Peterson stepped into the room with a smile that resembled more of a snake than anything. We don't need any guns going off and that valuable painting being ruined, now do we?"

Nick cursed silently, why had he looked at Hester instead of the door? Slowly, he dropped his gun as did Jarrod.

"Get that painting over here," Mr. Peterson barked and pointed to the picture while he spoke to Hester, "Let's see if this thing is a valuable as I've been told." Hester did as she was told.

Because he and Hester Miller were so concerned about the painting, neither one of them heard what Jarrod and Nick heard, more footsteps. Was their third suspect coming also or was help arriving? They both found themselves holding their breath.


	27. Chapter 27

**Paint Me a Picture **

**Chapter Twenty- Seven**

**Previously: **_Because he and Hester Miller were so concerned about the painting, neither one of them heard what Jarrod and Nick heard, more footsteps. Was their third suspect coming also or was help arriving? They found themselves holding their breath._

**000**

"I tell you this painting is worth no more than five hundred dollars, if that!" Hester, who had become quite an "expert" on art, did not appreciate the fact that Mr. Peterson was acting as if he knew more than her.

Mr. Peterson, who had never bought into the story that Hester Miller, knew a lot about art, barked, "Just keep that gun I gave you on these men while I study this picture!" He was boiling at the idea that the Barkley brothers very well might have set them up. He needed any money he could make off whatever paintings he could get a hold of and sell. The truth was, Mr. Peterson had recently gotten into gambling and had huge debts to pay.

"So, you thought to pull a fast one on us." He smirked as he put the painting down and pulled his own pistol out. Thoughts of sitting in a jail for days on end, time sitting in court only to wind up being taken to prison, and thoughts on many other events that would take place fueled Mr. Peterson's desire to get rid of any witnesses that could mess up his life. When Hester pointed her gun at Jarrod, intending to shoot him, Mr. Peterson stopped her.

"Are you an idiot?" He barked, rather annoyed at the woman who was refusing to use what little brains she had, "It might be dark outside, but there's still a few people walking around. "We'll just knock them out, one at a time and then I'll haul them out the back door and into the wagon. Once we get out of town, we can shoot them. Keep your gun on them!" He barked as he started for Nick's back.

Sean Archer had successfully slipped in through the back door of Jarrod and Brigham's law office. However, he hadn't gone two steps when he heard steps behind him and two pistols being cocked. It was because of the second pistol that he chose not to put up a fight as he felt a hand remove his pistol and another one upon his shoulder turning him around. He gulped; he was looking straight at Heath Barkley, who was accompanied by Brigham.

Saying nothing, Brigham waved his pistol towards the back door. Sean got the picture. When Heath stepped aside, Sean walked back out the door only to receive another surprise. Sheriff Madden was waiting for him. Nothing was said as the lawman led Sean Archer away. Heath and Brigham slipped back into the office and hurried as fast as they could without making a sound. They could hear Hester and Mr. Peterson talking as they made their way silently towards the l office.

The two men stepped into the room as Mr. Peterson brought his gun down on the Nick's head. Nick fell to the floor, unconscious, just as Hester panicked and turned her gun on Heath. He ducked in a split second and fired his colt, just before she pulled the trigger. Her bullet went into the side of the door; his went into her arm. Mr. Peterson, who had whirled around and took a shot at Brigham only to miss him by an inch, found Brigham bullet entering his heart. Peterson's eyes widened, and then dropped to the floor dead.

Jarrod, who had taken advantage of the distraction, had flown to the ground and was now holding his gun on Hester, lest she should try to take another shot in spite of being injured. She didn't; the woman simply let the gun fall to the ground.

"Nick!" Heath cried out as he and Jarrod knelt by their brother while Brigham took care of Hester. The two brothers slid their arms under Nick's shoulder and helped the now groggy man sit up.

"What happened?" Nick asked as he opened his eyes and winced at the pain that now lived in his head. Heath told him everything as he and Jarrod helped Nick to his feet. Once he had his balance back, Nick and Jarrod led Miss Miller to the sheriff's office while Heath and Nick took Mr. Peterson to the undertakers. That is, after promising to meet Jarrod and Brigham at the jail.

**0000**

Since Hester had admitted she'd known Phil was being set up from the beginning, he was set free. "Thank you." Phil spoke with sincere gratitude as he stood outside with Jarrod and the others. "I'm sorry to. I'm not even going to try to excuse my behavior since you came back to Stockton. Though," he said as he looked at the jailhouse and then back to the Barkley brothers, "I can promise I'll stop causing you a headache too."

Nick, for the sake of his brother, bit his tongue hard when it came to the volume. However, he did not beat around the bush either. "You best keep that promise, Phil. If you don't, I promise you, I'll find a legal way to stop you."

Jarrod stared at Nick and then broke out a grin, as did Heath. "Go. You free now." Jarrod looked back at Phil and kept his comment short. He didn't know whether or not Phil really had changed or not, and at that moment Jarrod couldn't have cared less what the case was. All he had on his mind was a pretty young lady who was waiting for him to marry her.

Heath must have read his mind as he turned to leave. "Come on brother, in two days you'll be a married man." He looked up at the slightly darkening sky. "We need to go celebrate while we can. It's not too late to do a little celebrating." It was not to be. Jarrod informed that he was going to check the boarding house and make sure Ester had made it back from visiting Audra and told them to go ahead as the saloon might be closed by the time he was available to join them.

"I think we're going to have to kidnap him if we want that celebration." Nick growled softly as he and Heath as they watched Jarrod walking briskly towards the boarding house and then headed for the saloon.

Heath gave Nick a lop-sided grin and said nothing. He didn't think they would; he knew they would.


	28. Chapter 28

Paint Me a Picture

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The sunlight was dancing in through the window as Ester climbed out of bed, sat in front of her mirror and combed her hair. She could hardly believe it was her wedding day. Her mind wandered back through the years, for a small moment she could see herself in the past as a flower girl at her older cousin's wedding.

_"Mama, Mary Ellen is so beautiful. Do all brides look that pretty?" A ten year old Ester Mandrel looked up at her mother, who seemed to be a giant. In all reality, Mrs. Mandrel was only just over five feet. ___

_"Yes, dear, all brides are. And, someday…" she answered as she knelt down in front of her only daughter and smiled, "You will be just as beautiful. You wait and see."_

Ester sighed at the memory. Her mother had promised to make her a wedding gown when the time came, but then she'd died of Scarlet Fever when Ester was only twelve years old. Whether or not her father would have remarried was something no one would ever know. Mr. Mandrel had been killed in a freak hunting accident three years later and Ester had had to make a choice, have Scott become her guardian or move in with her oldest brother. Since her oldest brother, blonde haired, twenty-two year old Joseph Mandrel, was living back east at the time, Ester had chosen to stay with eighteen year old Scott.

As she continued brushing her hair, Ester couldn't help but smile. Her Uncle Adam, who had been overseas at the time his sister and brother-in-law died, had traveled down from the Wyoming territory after receiving a telegram from Scott concerning her upcoming wedding. The two of them had sat in her room and talked for hours the night before.

Because of some false notions he'd been raised with, Adam Nelson had been concerned when he learned his niece was marrying a man who had to use his hands to communicate. That being the case, he had cleared his busy schedule and traveled as fast as he could down to California with the intent of stopping the marriage. However, after meeting Jarrod and talking with his family, along with Ester, Adam had changed his mind and never told anyone but his niece what his real intent had been. "You're a lucky woman, Ester. Do right by him, and I'm sure he'll do right by you."

When Audra knocked on the door and asked if she could come in, Ester let the memories from the night before go and told her future sister-in-law to go ahead.

"I thought, maybe, I could help you get ready." Audra was all smiles and already dressed in the bride's maid's dress she'd be wearing during the ceremony, a beautiful, sky blue dress with lace around the neckline and the sleeves.

"Give me a moment," Ester stood up and went to the closet where her wedding dress had been hung.

While Audra was helping Ester, Nick was hard timing Jarrod as he dressed. "If you wrestle that tie long enough, maybe it will forfeit the game." Nick laughed as Jarrod separated the tie for the hundredth time. He then smiled as he stood up from the chair he'd been sitting and said, "Let's see what I can do. I think there must be something that happens to a man's hands on his wedding day. From what I hear, there is a man yet that can handle a tie just before he gets married."

Jarrod didn't know about that. All he knew was he felt both excited and nervous at the same time. The past two days had seemed to drag on forever, now he could hear his mother talking to Scott in the hallway. The young man and his fiancé had just arrived, along with Ester's brother, Joseph, his new wife and his children.

Heath poked her head in the room just as Nick finished helping Jarrod with his tie. "Reverend and Mrs. Stacy just arrived. Everyone is getting seated." The family had cleared out the furniture from the living room and set up the chairs that were needed. "Are you about ready?"

Jarrod took a deep breath and signed, "If not ready now, never ready." That got his brothers laughing as they followed Jarrod out of the room.

Nick and Heath laughed at the comment, remembering the same one had been constantly made the night before, the night of Jarrod's "buck" party.

It had been said just about by every one of the men that had come that night to drink and salute Jarrod Barkley's good fortune. By the end of the night each of the guests were slapping Jarrod on the back and quoting, it's now or never. Their private joke a sign that all three men were excited and honored to be standing by each other's side.

It didn't take long for Jarrod to find his place in front of Reverend Stacy, Nick and Heath stood shoulder to shoulder. Jarrod looked over at the family present. His mother and brother, Eugene, who had taken time off school to come to the wedding, sat on the front row to his left, while his Aunt Clara sat next to her sister. Audra sat behind them with her husband. Mr. Nelson, Joseph, his wife and two sons sat on chairs that set closer to the windows. As Mrs. Stacy began playing the piano, Joseph Mandrel's young daughter walked up the aisle, laying a path of rose petals leading to the groom. After she'd taken her place all eyes then turned towards the stairs.

Jarrod caught his breath as Scott led his sister down the steps and into the living room. Ester was extremely beautiful in the wedding dress that had been made for her. Naturally, he had not been allowed to look at it before now.

The dress was the whitest taffeta; its satin sheen catching the light that streamed through the slightly opened windows. It was like nothing he had ever seen. The lace trimmed V neck line hugged her curvaceous body, drawing it to the small waist and diamond student belt clasped delicately at the waist. The petite line was mirrored in the leg of mutton sleeves; puffed at the top with folds of material with long slender forearms trimmed with the same intricate lace as the neck. The full bustle skirt with a small train that fell to the ground was wrapped in a scooped ruffled apron.

Ester wore a veil that set on a tiara shape band and flowed down her back and down to the floor, though it barely touched the carpet. By the time she came to stand next to him, Jarrod had wished he could just make time stand still. She had never been as beautiful as she was at that moment.

"We have gathered here together…" Reverend Stacy began talking. Jarrod and Ester barely heard the words; however, they did manage to exchange the needed vows. Though, when it came to Jarrod's part, Nick had to assure Reverend Stacy his brother was repeating what he'd been told to.

"I now pronounce you man and wife." Reverend Stacy smiled at the couple before him and said, "You may now kiss the bride." Jarrod didn't have to be told a second time. He took his bride and was soon lost in their simple and reverend contact, lost to the cheers and applause of the guest around them; at least, for a few small moments.

The small luncheon that followed was quite enjoyable as one story after another was exchanged. However, by dinner time Scott Mandrel, his fiancé, and Mr. Nelson were back at the hotel, Aunt Clara had agreed to stay a few more days, while Jarrod and Ester had boarded the train that would carry them to Boston…as Ester had admitted to Jarrod that she'd always wanted to see the home of the famous Boston Tea Party.

0000

Jarrod shut the door to the private car he'd arranged to have on the trip back east, and turned to look at Ester, who was sitting on the bed. He wasn't too surprised to see she looked more than a bit nervous. He didn't' want her to be afraid of anything. He walked over to her slowly and signed. "We can wait. I not push you."  
As nervous as Ester was, she wasn't scared of Jarrod either. Smiling, she stood up, walked over to him and slid her arms up the front of him. "You're not pushing."

Jarrod felt himself stiffen ever so slightly at her touch and the smell of her perfume, which still lingered around her. He wrapped one arm around her waist, as he covered her mouth and slid his tongue inside. He lifted his hand and pressed his fingers against her neck. It took a split second for Ester to realize her new husband was talking to her by spelling words out for her in such a manner that she could feel the letters. By the time he'd spelled out the sentence,_ I thought this day would never arrive_; Ester couldn't have turned him down if she wanted to.

Jarrod's lips began finding its way down the side of her neck, leaving soft and warm kisses to her silky skin. His hands began unbuttoning the back of her wedding dress at the same time, unhurried and gentle. Ester was sure time and the world stopped turning as her dress fell to the floor. Jarrod took her hand, led her to the bed and laid her down. He talked to her in the same manner as he had just finished doing while his mouth and free hand explored other areas…only he didn't stick with just using her neck as a place to make the signs.

The cook in the dining car would find himself with extra food that night as Jarrod and Ester never bothered showing up.

**Epilogue to Follow**


	29. Epilogue

**A/N This is the reason I yanked this piece off when I did. I had decided to make it the epilogue.**

**Epilogue (songfic form)**

_**Daddy's Hands **_

**("Daddy's Hands" is sung by the artist Holly Dunn")**

I remember Daddy´s hands, folded silently in prayer.  
And reaching out to hold me, when I had a nightmare.  
You could read quite a story, in the callouses and lines.  
Years of work and worry had left their mark behind.

The wind howled outside the darkened bedroom window. Five year old Joy Barkley lay curled up in the corner of her bed after kneeling in prayer with her parents and older siblings, but let out a scream as she woke up from a nightmare. Before she could get out of her bed and out her door, she looked up to see her father, Jarrod Barkley standing in the door way. The young child flew up in to his arms knowing he'd sit down in the rocking chair her mother, Ester Mandrel Barkley, used during the day… and he did.

As he held her close, Joy ran her small hands over his calloused one. Her mama told her they hadn't always been calloused, but after the incident that robbed her father of the voice she had never heard, he had worked not only in his law office, but on the ranch as well. Now, years later the part time ranch work had caught up with her fifty-two year old father. The young child didn't care; those hands took care of her and the others they loved. With those hands, her daddy talked to his family.

I remember Daddy´s hands, how they held my Mama tight,

And patted my back, for something done right.  
There are things that I´ve forgotten, that I loved about the man,  
But I´ll always remember the love in Daddy´s hands.

Eight year old Joy walked into the house after visiting her Uncle Nick and Aunt Ella's family. She couldn't help but smile; her father was sitting on the couch while holding her mother close. She could see the love the two shared. Running up to them, she handed her father her report card. He looked at the grades. While they were not all A's, she had brought her grades up and there were no D's on it anymore. He put the card down and pulled her closed, patted her back and then signed with his free hand, "Good work. You did well."

Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´.  
Daddy´s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong.  
Daddy´s hands, weren´t always gentle  
But I´ve come to understand.  
There was always love in Daddy´s hands.

Ten year old Joy sat on the steps of her home crying. Because her tears were falling so fast, she didn't see her father sit down next to her until he put his hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and looked up. She watched his hands and his face as he asked her what was wrong. She told him of her troubles and he smiled with sympathy and talked with her.

Twelve year old Joy did her best not to grumble or rub her backside as she put some hours in on her Uncle Nick's ranch. She and her friend hadn't meant to break the Widow Smith's window with the two rocks they'd thrown, but they had. Her father's hands might not have felt so hard on her backside, but she'd made the mistake of trying to cover her part in the fiasco up. That had earned her backside a conversation with his hands plus community service hours. The judge had, in her eyes, been crazy enough to let her father decide the amount of hours. Why did her father have to be an attorney?

I remember Daddy´s hands, working 'til they bled.  
Sacrificed unselfishly, just to keep us all fed.

Twenty year old Joy Barkley held onto her father's arm as he led her down the aisle to her future husband. She couldn't help but glance down at her father's hands. Health problems had forced him to retire seven years ago, earlier than he'd planned, and his hands had begun to wrinkle, proof he'd worked with his brothers on the ranch, not just in his office. She even remembered one day her father had come home cut up from some work he'd done on the ranch. He'd never complained though; his family was fed and taken care of.

If I could do things over, I´d live my life again.  
And never take for granted the love in Daddy´s hands.

"Who gives this woman in marriage…" the preacher looked around the room and asked.

Joy beamed, fighting tears as her father stood up and signed "I do, her mother does." She knew if she had a chance to start her life over, she'd never take for granted the love her father had in his hands for his family.


End file.
